


Burning Bright

by whalehuntingboyfriends



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, Hurt/Comfort, OT7, immortal au, so much relationship drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-27 17:34:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 63,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8410459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends
Summary: After selling his soul in exchange for immortality, Jeremy’s been alone for decades. When he hears about a gang of criminals who are like him, he leaps at the chance to join them.But integrating into the Fake AH Crew is harder than he expects. Faced with tangled relationships, ongoing tensions, and a group chat filled with a ridiculous amount of drama, things only get even more complicated when a fight between Michael and Gavin goes too far and Jeremy finds himself caught in the middle of a feud with far too much history behind it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to miss-ingno and youre-my-bois for their help with this story <3

Sometimes, Jeremy feels like his whole life is a dream.

Since that first time he died and came back, he can never quite tell what’s real and what might all be part of some hallucinated afterlife. Like maybe he’s dead after all. It gets stranger the more time passes - as years and years slip away and blur together, as a day begins to feel like a second, as weeks mean nothing.

Sometimes he wonders if that’s why the others constantly seek danger, adrenaline - death, even. Some sort of _sensation_ \- a single moment of clarity.

This morning is one of those when he slips from sleep to waking and for a moment can’t remember where he is, _when_ he is - if it’s the 1920s or 2016, if he was dead or alive. Just that he’s safe, and warm, and comfortable, and-

“Thank God you’re awake. You’re lying on my bloody leg and you’ve made it fall asleep. Get off, please!”

Okay. There’s that fucking clarity he wanted. Jeremy jolts awake in a second, looking frantically around.

Morning. Summer. Achievement City. Michael’s apartment. Michael’s _bed_. Nothing unusual there.

Gavin, in the bed beside him, staring rather crossly at him.

_That’s_ new. Okay. What the _fuck_.

“What…” Jeremy stammers. “You… here…”

“Off my _leg_ , please,” Gavin insists again, and Jeremy realises groggily that his thigh is slung over Gavin’s, that a lot of weight was resting on him.

His very bare thigh. On Gavin’s very bare leg. Cheeks flaming, he rolls off Gavin, who hisses in relief.

“Thanks, Lil’ J,” he says, and Jeremy can only stare.

He’s surprised Gavin didn’t just pinch him to wake him up. Or stab him with a safety pin, or stick a wet finger in his ear or _something_ \- it seems like the sort of thing he’d do, quite frankly. If Gavin wants something, he goes after it. If he dislikes something, he gets rid of it. That’s how they _all_ operate.

But now, the other man just stretches his leg gingerly a few times before settling back against the pillows with a content sigh.

_Michael’s_ pillows, Jeremy realises again, and it comes back in bits and pieces, now - he rolls over and sees the sheets rumpled, the blankets thrown back in the bed next to him. And then registers the clatter of dishes, the bubbling hum of the kettle in the kitchen outside. Michael’s here, too.

God, Jeremy was so fucking drunk last night.

He remembers, now. The three of them went out to an obscenely expensive restaurant, where they drank far too much champagne and ate all manner of overpriced dishes with fancy names and gratuitous caviar on top. And Michael’s hand kept resting on his thigh, ridiculously warm as always, so warm he could feel the heat of it through the leg of his suit pants. And Gavin kept smiling - at _him_ \- flashing his sharp little teeth in genuine grins for once. He looked so pretty under the soft light of the chandelier, in his shirt that shimmered with real gold thread through it, open low enough to show the sparkling chain hanging around his throat.

It was meant to be a night out - a dinner - _a date?_ Jeremy hadn’t asked, hadn’t wanted to assume. But they’d come back here, and Gavin had said something stupid like _have you ever had sex to the Arctic Monkeys_ , and Michael rolled his eyes and said something like _I’ll give_ you _an Arctic Monkey_ , and the rest was a bit of a blur but Jeremy was pretty sure _someone_ got Arctic Monkey’d because he remembers lips and teeth and skin-

And Gavin, not familiar like Michael, with his mix of curly hair and soft edges and rough calloused hands. Gavin, new, foreign, with his flat stomach and sharp hip bones and carefully manicured nails.

_Yikes_ , as Ryan would say. Jeremy’s not quite sure what he’s gotten himself into, and he darts another glance at Gavin, his cheeks flaming.

Gavin’s lying in bed, arm flung carelessly behind his head, flicking through his phone with the other hand. He’s wearing Michael’s three-thousand dollar satin robe, open at the front, and the deep red looks good against his tan skin, and in the bright summer sunlight filtering through the curtains, Jeremy can see a faint bruise sucked into the hollow of his throat, and can’t remember if he or Michael put it there.

He’s still staring when Michael walks in, carrying a tray with coffee and fresh fruit on it. He catches Jeremy’s eyes and winks as he enters, and Jeremy smiles nervously back. This part of the routine is familiar, at least. He knows Michael - is _with_ Michael-

But now Gavin’s here, too, sitting up with a cheerful squawk of, “My boi! You brought me grapes!”

And Michael’s answering laugh is familiar and fond, and Jeremy glances between them and thinks, _fuck it,_ and lets himself relax.

He isn’t quite sure where this leaves them, what’s going on here, but they have all the time in the world to figure it out.

Literally.

\---

This is the problem: Jeremy is a big fucking coward who’s too chicken to actually ask what’s going on here. Maybe because he’s not quite sure of his place in the group yet. Maybe because he’s scared of what the answer will be.

It’s a pretty stupid question, really. So stupid it’s _embarrassing_.

It’s possible that he maybe-isn’t-quite-sure who he’s dating. If he’s dating anyone at all. Or if he’s dating _everyone_ , at once.

‘Cause it’s like this: he’s in a relationship with Michael, has been for months now.

Except Michael never stopped dating Gavin.

And Gavin’s always with Ryan, and Ryan’s in with the other gents, and Geoff and Jack are _actually_ , literally _married_ , but now and then Geoff and _Michael_ go out together-

And lately, Gavin spends so much time with Jeremy as well that he’s not sure if the two of _them_ are together - Gavin’s never said anything out loud about it.

Then again, none of the others ever say anything out loud. They all just _know_ , because they’ve known each other for hundreds of years, and have apparently devolved into a single, polyamorous conglomerate.

But maybe we should start at the beginning.

\---

Jeremy has been alive for ninety-eight years, six months and twenty-two days.

He’s twenty-five years old when, while robbing the vault of one of the rich criminal overlords of his city, he stumbles upon the artefact - little more than a scrap of paper with a line of strange symbols on it. Pictograms, or some shit.

Most would have discarded it as rubbish. But something about it calls to Jeremy, and he keeps it. Researches it. And the more he learns the more he’s drawn into a sudden, strange new world of dark magic. Demons. The impossible, closely guarded secret kept by the rich and powerful.

Few others know about this. Fewer still have gone through with it. But Jeremy becomes one of those few, who follows a treasure trail of runes across countries and languages and cults until he figures out the mystery to summoning the devil, whereupon he promptly sells his soul to Satan in exchange for immortality.

Like many stupid decisions, it seems like a good idea at the time.

Jeremy has always worked alone; a thief who prefers to fly solo. Before long he’s outlived any friends he has left, any _family_ , and then it’s just himself and endless time.

It’s fun at first, then quickly torturous, and he’s alone for nearly seventy years, desperately trying to find something, anything he _wants_ to live for.

And then he hears about the Fake AH Crew.

\---

It’s because Jeremy watches far too much TV that he stumbles upon the documentary.

He has been reduced, by the weight of living far too long, to taking joy in the mindless, banal pleasures of reality television. His own life seems so startlingly pointless now that he has so _much_ of it that all he can do is vicariously live through the drama of other, mortal peoples’ brief existences.

Basically, he is now far too invested in who wins The Bachelor. And America’s Next Top Model. And Masterchef. Look, it’s all he _has_ , okay?

He’s channel surfing one evening, in his comfortable apartment with his three cats (and watching his _pets_ grow old and die, over and over, that’s been hard too) when he hits the crime network and there’s some doco on about the _worst crew in the country_.

A bold claim. There’s lots of gangs out there - Jeremy’s seen them. Worked with them. But he watches, curious, and soon he’s sitting up straight and watching intently because something’s _different_ about this.

Achievement City is isolated from the rest of the country by desert, forest and sea. It’s home to some of the wealthiest people in the nation, but is secluded - reclusive, almost - a place few think about because it’s so hard to get to. It’s so inaccessible unless you’re already there, but the city is large enough to be its own ecosystem of society.

Apparently, it’s also continuously terrorised by a single group of individuals who cause relentless havoc and destruction; mostly in the city, occasionally outside.

The police have sworn they killed the group. Six times.

But they keep coming back, and in the brief footage that _has_ managed to be captured, Jeremy pauses the program, leaning in close.

Later he will know that this is Michael Jones. For now, as he walks forward and presses his hands to the screen and stares at the grainy freeze-frame of security camera footage, he just knows it as the man with eyes like his - eyes without a soul, eyes filled with eternity.

\---

So he tracks them down, and introduces himself, and lets them all kill him however they want, and wakes up again five times, and the next thing he knows, he’s been welcomed into the fold.

It all happens so suddenly he’s not quite sure what to think.

But what’s most important are the _people_ , and how he’s no longer alone.

Michael is the first member of the crew that Jeremy meets, the one he tracks down (mostly by following the trail of explosions and burnt grass stretching through the hills outside AC), the one he speaks to, who brings him to the others, vouches for him.

Jeremy falls in love immediately.

Somehow, of all of them, Michael seems the most _human_. It’s the fire in him, Jeremy thinks. Something constantly flaming and warm and _alive_.

Still - Michael feels a bit unreal sometimes too - in the way all of them are, free from the pressure of aging and dying, operating on some higher plane where they’re long past caring what anyone else thinks of them.

He acts like the bad boy love interest from every grungy eighties romance movie. Speeds around in a fast car with an open roof, letting the wind whip through his curls, pausing now and then to chain smoke expensive cigarettes with one hand hanging out the car window, watching the world go past over the rims of his vintage sunglasses. He wears big, beaten leather jackets and his main pastime seems to be starting fires, or loitering around looking suspicious and unsettling everyone around him.

But Jeremy - he sweeps Jeremy off his feet immediately, seeming eager to induct someone new into the crew, and drives him around all over the place, showing him which buildings Geoff lets them blow up, and all their favourite spots along the coastline, and the best hole-in-the-wall places to eat.

Michael’s easy to talk to; what you see is what you get with him.

“We all go through that stage of thinking, fuck, I’m ready to die,” he informs Jeremy, nonchalantly, as he heaves another load of wood onto an enormous bonfire he’s building on the beach, shaped like an upright penis and deliberately timed to disrupt the yachting festival one of the rich boating clubs is about to hold. “Totally fucking normal. You get past it. It helps to be with the others - best to just accept that you can’t undo what you did selling your soul. It’s like giving birth. Once it’s out, it ain’t going back in.” 

Jeremy gives a startled laugh. Michael steps back and grins at him, reaching up to wipe his sweaty forehead. It’s a warm Autumn day and he looks good in the sun, his hair more reddish, the freckles standing out on his boyish face - a face that’s soft and young and won’t ever change.

Jeremy smiles back, a bit shyly.

“It’s not weird, me suddenly coming in like this?”

He feels a bit self-conscious, because he’s known the others three days, whereas they’ve known each other three _lifetimes_ by this point.

“Not at all, dude,” Michael insists. “It’s fucking refreshing having someone new around. God, we get sick of each other when we’ve heard everyone’s stories ten times over by now. It’s good to see a new face. Besides,” he adds, smirking, “You have plenty of time to get to know us.”

Jeremy feels something warm swell up in his chest - something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Later, when he can feel the heat of the fire roaring against his skin, and there’s thick black smoke billowing up against the clear sky, and he looks over at Michael and finds his face smudged with ash and his hair wild and windswept, and Jeremy’s lungs are filled with a mix of the briny salt air of the ocean and the acrid tang of the bonfire-

He feels more alive than he has in a long time. He wants to stay. He wants to know Michael as well as all the others do, to make up for lost time, to let himself have this and know it won’t fade away like everything else does.

\---

One of the first things Jeremy learns about the others is that three lifetimes’ worth of heists has really paid off.

“Oh, we’re all filthy rich,” Michael informs him, when they first enter the penthouse and Jeremy can’t help sucking his breath in a little.

It’s the best piece of real estate in Achievement City, probably. Atop a hill on the far end of town, it has an incredible view of the entire city sprawled out under them. The ocean in the distance, skyscrapers sparkling silver and stretching towards the sky. It’s all glass and beautiful clean lines of modern architecture, and Ramsey owns every single level in it. Passing through the other storeys, Jeremy catches glimpses of expensive furniture, plush carpets, spotlessly clean floors and windows. Shelves of rare books and cases of expensive liquor. But the penthouse at the very top of the building seems to be their main base.

“We all have our own floor to live on,” Michael continues, as they stride into the apartment. “The penthouse is a shared space. We have our own properties around the city, though. Ryan’s not here much - he likes being out in the country more.”

“What the fuck,” Jeremy can’t help murmuring as he looks around, eyes huge - he’s broken into some rich people’s houses before, but this is on a whole new level of _expensive as fuck_.

Michael laughs at the look on his face - something fondly amused in it. He reaches out and jostles Jeremy’s shoulder.

“You haven’t spent your life so far making money?”

“I mean, yeah - but not like this!”

Jeremy’s kept up his thievery, but after years of working alone he got bored of it.  He has more than enough money to be comfortable, but not to this extent.

“So rich, dude,” Michael repeats, and shakes his head. There’s a weird mixture of pride and a little self-disgust in his voice. “So fucking rich.”

“What do you guys even do all day?” Jeremy asks, as they enter the living room. The couch is so white that in the sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling glass window, it nearly blinds him. He’s scared to sit on it.

Michael throws himself down like he doesn’t care that his jacket’s smudged with ash and his shoes are muddy. Jeremy tentatively sits on the arm of the sofa next to him.

“Oh boy, there’s a question,” Michael replies. The penthouse is silent as he thinks, and Jeremy looks around. He feels out of place, like a child caught in a room where he’s not meant to be.

“Are the others in?” he asks, nervously.

Michael shakes his head.

“Not right now,” he says, absently. “To answer your question, we plan and pull heists. There are some places in the city we don’t hit, some people we’re allied with. But the police hate us, and some of the rich assholes around here do worse things than we’ve ever done. So we tend to target them. But when we’re not causing havoc - we have fun together, we go on trips or buy shit, have pool parties, play games… but our latest thing is vehicles.”

“Vehicles?”

“Oh boy, the _vehicles_.” Michael links his hands behind his head and grins up at Jeremy. “Land, sea, or air - if it exists and it’s fast, we want it. And Gav - you met Gav, right, that first night you came to join us? - his latest thing is setting up these ridiculous stunts. Trying to use planes to lift other things up, or fly through tunnels. Creating ridiculous obstacle courses to race on. We can’t die, so we can do stupid wipeout shit like that. It’s a lot of fun. You can join in,” he adds, brightly. “We’ll buy you a nice fast car, maybe a jet or something.”

“Wow,” is all Jeremy can say. His heart is racing just at the thought; Michael showed him some footage on his phone earlier of them parachuting out over the ocean. These thrill-seeking adventures sound amazing. And they’re right, they can’t die - so why not risk their lives pulling stunts most others could only dream of.

Michael just shrugs.

“So that’s our main gig nowadays,” he says, then grins. “We’re really into racing at the moment.”

Jeremy nods slowly. Michael falls silent, distracted by something buzzing on his phone, and Jeremy finally dares to glance around the room. He’s almost scared to look around, like he’ll break all the glass just by laying eyes on it. 

But between all the expensive whiskeys, and priceless bits of modern art, and claw-footed furniture, there’s a television surrounded by fives Xboxes, a tangle of wires and messy controllers and games scattered around it. There’s something startlingly, oddly human about seeing it in the middle of all this luxury, and Jeremy gives a small smile.

“There’s a spare floor under mine,” Michael says abruptly. “You could move in here. The others won’t care.”

“I’d like that,” Jeremy says quietly.

Michael grins, and Jeremy grins back, and he finally relaxes against the couch, and feels even more at home when Michael jumps up a moment later to get them both beers.

\---

So that is Michael.

Jeremy spends a lot of time over at his flat, even after he moves into his own floor - staying up until ridiculous hours playing video games and yelling at the TV with him, laughing and sharing stories, sleeping past dawn and waking up in the late afternoon.

Michael’s apartment is an odd mixture; he has a bearskin rug and stolen paintings on the walls and polished wood floors and an army of roombas keeping everything spotless - but it’s also cluttered with action figures, and video games, and comics, and movie posters spanning a number of decades.

His wardrobes have suits worth thousands of dollars mixed up with ragged band t-shirts and more leather jackets than one person should reasonably own. An expensive electric fireplace with flames that change colour is right next to five mini-fridges each stocked with different drinks. Michael is rich luxury mixed with something down to earth, something human and _normal_ that Jeremy misses.

Michael is the sun and the ocean and salt on his lips and cold beers while lying in the hot sand and the tang of gunpowder in the air from explosions and the thrill of being close to _fire-_

Jeremy follows him around like a lost puppy. It’s the first person he’s connected with in a long, long time. He doesn’t want this to end. He’s pretty sure it won’t.

\---

Jeremy likes Geoff and Jack immediately.

They’re the founders of the crew and the ones who brought all the others together, who set the rules about what to do in the city, who manage their media presence and contain how much the public actually knows about them.

They’re steady, and old, and wise, and Jeremy’s so glad someone’s actually taking charge of all this that he thinks he’d do anything they say.

They welcome him kindly - he doesn’t spend as much time with them as he does with Michael, feeling a bit intimidated at first, but they’re often around the penthouse and soon he’s comfortable enough to join them at the table for breakfast, or bring home food to share with them, and join in their conversations.

No hangovers and no liver damage is one of the bonuses of immortality, and Geoff takes full advantage of it. Jeremy doesn’t think he’s ever seen the man with a non-alcoholic drink in his hand. He wears the most expensive suits Jeremy’s ever seen - pure silk shirts made in Italy, tailored to fit him to perfection - but he doesn’t seem to give two shits about them. He wears them around the house, on heists, in their racing games, lets them get ragged and torn and then throws them away without a second thought.

He flies everywhere in his personal plane and spends a lot of time going on long fishing trips - but Jeremy also sees him working hard, staying up late into the night planning heists and organising things. Running the city - he makes long plans, long investments, arranges things years in advance. Time means nothing to him, so he can let things play out slowly without worrying if he’ll be around to keep it all on track.

Jack, on the other hand, seems to channel his time into building projects. It’s all very _Ozymandias_ ; he seems determined to shape the city physically, to leave his enduring mark on it all, constantly developing properties around the city and then selling them. He’s built enormous mansions and houses, clearly putting a lot of pride into them.

It’s a strange hobby, but Jeremy can understand why he has the urge to do it. And Jack is lovely - he’s so caring and genuinely affectionate towards everyone that Jeremy feels welcomed immediately. It’s not uncommon to walk in on him cuddling with someone on the couch, or chasing them down to treat injuries or make sure they eat, even though it doesn’t matter, since none of them can die anyway.

“How are you settling in?” he’ll ask Jeremy, or-

“Have the others shown you where everything is?”

“You can just take food from the fridge if you want it. Unless someone puts their name on it, it’s fair game.”

“Oh, don’t worry about those knives stuck in the wall. They’ve been there for ages. No need to look so alarmed! We’ll, uh, paint over the bloodstain eventually.”

No one’s _worried_ about Jeremy in a long time. It’s a refreshing feeling, and it makes him feel a warm affection for both of them, these two who create and maintain this home. 

\---

Ryan doesn’t spend a lot of time at the apartment. Instead, he has an enormous mansion out in the hills surrounding AC, in the midst of fields and forest.

“It’s not a farm,” he insists, every time someone comments on it.

“No, it’s just a creepy farmhouse with no animals, only pits for you to dump murdered bodies in,” Michael replies.

“It’s your lair for playing real life _Dead by Daylight_ ,” Gavin contributes, without looking up from his phone.

Ryan laughs at that. A sinister laugh. A _terrifying_ laugh.

Honestly, Jeremy’s not quite sure what to make of him.

In terms of real age, though not physical age, he’s older than Geoff and Jack - much older, so old that it frightens Jeremy to think about. He also can’t tell exactly _how_ old, because Ryan makes these awful comments that Jeremy’s never sure if he’s serious about or not, since he’s always completely deadpan.

Things like, “Ah yes, my old pal Jesus Christ said you shouldn’t do shit like that,” or “They didn’t do things like this when Julius Caesar was in charge,” or “The original cast that I saw at the Globe was much better.”

The others also regularly call him ‘Lord Haywood,’ and Jeremy doesn’t know if they’re for real or just taking the piss.

Still. Ryan certainly acts like a lord. He has two personas - sometimes he’s in his horrifying Vagabond getup, with painted face and skull mask and all manner of modern explosive weaponry. Other times, he seems to revert back to the middle ages. He wears lavish fur coats and expensive leather boots and generally dresses like some sort of royalty from Game of Thrones, and holds grand feasts at his mansion, which the first time Jeremy visits, he’s pretty sure is some sort of Medieval castle that’s been transplanted from Europe into America.

He reminds Jeremy, more than anything, of a fucking vampire - all creepy mood lighting and stone walls and candelabras and a lot of murder jokes. He can see it in Ryan’s eyes, he’s _ancient_ , and clearly very used to this lavish lifestyle.

“He has a laboratory down there,” Michael whispers to Jeremy one evening, when they’re sitting around Ryan’s grand dining table and their host has just gone down into what he claims is his wine cellar, but Jeremy is pretty sure is actually his _murder basement_. “He’s always doing experiments.”

“On what?” Jeremy whispers back, horrified and envisioning Ryan creating like, Frankenstein’s monster, or a portal to hell, or some shit down there.

“No idea. He won’t let any of us in there.”

“Even after all these years?”

“Nope,” Michael replies. His eyes are glittering with amusement, but his voice is quite serious, and Jeremy lets out a breath.

“Jesus.”

Ryan comes back with a decanter of wine. He’s wearing a full on robe and cape like he’s just robbed the costume department of a period production of _Hamlet_ , and he served them a whole boar which Jeremy is not quite sure if he cooked himself, because there are no servants or staff about but he still feels like he’s in a castle with a king, being waited on.

The others are totally chill, though. Gavin’s on his phone with his feet up on the table, and Jack’s carving the meat for everyone, and Geoff is googling cocktails on his phone and showing them to Michael, and before long Jeremy shakes his unease off and laughs along with the rest of them.

Just another weird immortal thing, probably.

Still. 

Ryan’s intimidating, mostly because he doesn’t acknowledge Jeremy much. He gives him a cursory welcome along with the others when he just joins, but then just… doesn’t interact with him much. He’s aloof, and doesn’t seem that interested, and Jeremy can’t work out what the other man thinks of him. Even knowing he’s safe and can’t be killed doesn’t stop him being nervous.

But before long, he starts seeing Ryan with the _others_.

Chauffeuring Gavin around on his motorbike, the other man clinging to his waist with one arm and texting with the other, and then Ryan carrying Gavin’s ridiculous number of shopping bags into the apartment for him.

Or Ryan lying with his eyes shut and his head in Jack’s lap in the penthouse, Jack carding fingers through his long hair while idly watching television. Something oddly serene and calm to it, like watching someone pet a sleeping lion’s mane.

Or seeing him out with Michael, shooting flares into the forest, grinning wildly, teeth bared, red and gold light streaking over their faces - something fierce and feral and _alive_ in it. Later, Jeremy sees him drive Michael back to the penthouse and walk him to the door and kiss him tenderly before driving back out to his own mansion.

So there is a heart in there after all, he thinks. Even if it hasn’t been shown to _him_ yet.

\--- 

And then, because we must save the best for last, there is Gavin. 

Ah, Gavin.

He is perhaps the single most terrifying individual that Jeremy has ever met. 

That might seem odd, considering compared to the rest of the crew he’s not physically imposing at all; he’s small and slight and doesn’t have Ryan’s ancient eyes, or Michael’s rugged roughness. He’s delicate, and pristinely dressed, with a soft voice and lilting British accent.

But Jeremy finds him intimidating as fuck because it is immediately clear that Gavin is one of the richest of the lot - and likes to show it off. He’s the most glamorous individual Jeremy’s ever seen.

It’s like Gavin has carefully designed every aspect of himself to look perfect - his bleached blonde hair always seems sprayed into a pristine coiff, his expensive sunglasses never have so much as a smudge on them, and his silk shirts are carefully tailored to hug his lean frame. He rides around on enormous motorbikes in a variety of garish colours, and when his glasses are on he always seems to be giving everything a vaguely disgusted look, and he’s just clearly, obnoxiously _wealthy_ in a way that makes him carry himself like a prince.

He looks like the sort of person Jeremy should despise - like one of the fat cat business owners of the city, who they usually try to rob.

But Gavin’s still one of _them_ , and if he’s haughty and spoiled and likes to show off - well, the others do just as much, just not in this way, not looking like they’ve just stepped off the front cover of _Men’s Vogue_.

And Jeremy-

Maybe it’s because of Gavin’s flawless foundation, or his big green eyes, or how his soft lips wrap around every accented word, but something about him reminds Jeremy so much of a porcelain doll - pretty, and beautifully _crafted_ , and untouchable - that he always feels like a bit of a grot in comparison. Gavin makes him overly aware of how his clothes don’t fit that well, and how he’s short and broad, and his beard always looks messy, and he doesn’t think even with a thousand years to practice he could ever do his makeup that perfectly.

So he’s terrified, mostly because Gavin’s the most reckless of all of them; steals and crashes the biggest vehicles, pulls robberies on a whim, never so much as flinches when his perfectly manicured fingers pull a trigger.

He’s such an odd mix of things that Jeremy can only watch him from a distance, intrigued by this glittery little creature who loves gold, and jewellery, and designer clothing, but simultaneously doesn’t seem to mind falling off his bike a hundred times and ending up with bloodied knees and dirty clothes, who plays stupid pranks on the others and says the most outrageous things.

“Weeds don’t exist. There are only plants you dislike.”

“Okay but imagine if the moon was actually _alive_ and spying on us. _The moon is God!_ ”

“What’s our asshole mayor splashing his money about on now? I am going to buy his custom lamborghini from him and take a shit in the driver’s seat. And then give it back to him as a birthday present.”

“You look like a naked mole rat,” he informs Geoff, after he shaves his beard one day. “Oh my God, remember that time Jack literally became a thumb puppet?”

“If anyone’s a finger puppet it’s you,” Ryan drawls from the couch, raising his eyebrow and making an obscene motion with his hands.

Jeremy’s sitting next to him. His face turns bright red, but Gavin just squawks, a high-pitched little “ _Oi!_ ”, and then for some absurd reason picks up a knife and makes like he’s gonna _throw_ it at Ryan, pulling a horrible face the entire time - before laughing and going immediately back to making his tea.

He and Michael are also ridiculously close, to the point where at first Jeremy assumes they’re together (later, he will learn, _together_ is a concept that’s at once overly complicated and overly simple between these men).

“My boi!” Gavin will cry, any time they meet up somewhere, and swoop in and kiss Michael on the cheek. Michael always affectedly wipes it away, but his disgruntled look is just for show. Jeremy can tell by now.

“Gavvers,” he’ll grunt in return, and they make such an odd combination - Michael in his grungy leather jacket, Gavin in a shimmery light-pink blazer, with gold-rimmed sunglasses thrust up in his wild hair, jeans so tight that Jeremy has to make an active effort to keep his eyes above Gavin’s waist…

They’re such a complete contrast, but there’s something so _fond_ in it as Gavin links his arm into Michael’s, chattering away happily as he drags him into the hangar full of little planes they’ve met at.

Gavin doesn’t talk to Jeremy much at first, and he’s far too shy to ever approach himself.

But Gavin offers him drinks if he’s making them for the rest of the crew, and one day they just sit on the couch in the penthouse - both on their phones, but the silence isn’t _uncomfortable_ \- and when Jeremy walks into the lounge room one day to find Gavin watching TV, Gavin looks up and asks if he has any Netflix recommendations (a futile exercise; they’ve all seen just about every TV show in existence by now, but Jeremy’s happy just to _talk_ to him, one-on-one…)

Maybe he has something of a crush on Gavin. Not like his crush on Michael, not caring so deeply, just… he’s intrigued, and maybe it’s shallow, but Gavin is so good looking, and confident, and can make the others laugh so easily, and something about him just makes Jeremy flustered.

“But he’s a fucking idiot,” is Michael’s astute opinion, when Jeremy mentions that he finds Gavin intimidating.

“He’s not,” Jeremy replies quietly, a little shocked by the brash statement.

Michael just snorts.

“He’s a spoiled brat,” he says, flippantly, “We all are. Don’t be scared of him - you’re ten times smarter than he is, probs.”

Jeremy bites his lip, figuring it’s not his place to argue - not when Michael’s so close to Gavin, when they tease each other constantly, when he knows Michael doesn’t really mean it. It’s just that Gavin’s not stupid, is all he can think - he’s very sharp, and some of his ideas and designs and heist plans are eccentric, but so fucking clever that Jeremy can’t believe him sometimes. And he sees Gavin watching documentaries and Great Courses and reading a lot, so he’s clearly an avid learner, doing something productive with his endless time, and he spouts random facts about space or dinosaurs or the human body that sound completely made up but that Jeremy is pretty sure are true, just poorly explained.

He joins the group on one of their racetracks one day, which Ryan has built out in the fields behind his murder-castle-mansion-thing. It’s to be completed on bicycles, apparently, and is a truly horrifying structure full of awful ramps and dips and turns and a _moat_ that’s filled with little fish which will apparently “nibble all your dead skin off. Don’t worry, just the _dead_ skin. Well, hopefully.”

Geoff and Jack are speeding through it like demons, and Ryan’s gotten bored and is now sitting up on one of the higher ramps shooting flares at them. Michael keeps ramming his bike into Gavin and making him fall over. He’s covered in dirt by now, and is growing steadily more annoyed. This, of course, only makes Michael steadily more _amused_.

“ _Michael_ ,” Gavin cries, when he’s thrown off his bike for the twentieth time. He rolls over and lies there in the dust, chest heaving as he catches his breath.

Jeremy’s standing nearby, pumping one of his own bicycle’s wheels. He glances over, and the sight of Gavin lying there - shirt unbuttoned too far as usual, the long line of his throat as he swallows - makes him freeze. There’s something far too obscene about it.

“Stop making me stack it,” Gavin continues, pitifully. “It’s not fair!”

“ _It’s not fair_ ,” Michael immediately imitates.

“My arse hurts, Michael, and it’s your fault!” Gavin complains.

“What else is new?” Michael replies, with a wicked smirk that makes even Jeremy’s cheeks heat.

“I fell on my bloody tailbone,” Gavin insists, unfazed. “Help me up!”

Michael just starts kicking dirt in his direction instead, does three vigorous hip thrusts for some absurd reason, and then turns away to continue riding his bike. Gavin pulls a face after him and then looks around, gaze dragging lazily over all of them as he searches for another victim. His eyes land on Jeremy, and Jeremy freezes, flustered.

“Jeremy!” Gavin orders. “Help me up, love.”

 _Love_. Jeremy hasn’t heard that directed at him before, only the others. It’s nice, makes something warm wrap around him like a blanket.  

Gavin extends an arm towards him, big gold watch glinting around his thin wrist, drawing Jeremy in like a magpie to some sparkling treasure. Jeremy swallows, and moves towards him, bending down. Gavin’s arm curls around his shoulders, long and slender like a swan’s neck. He’s warm and smells like some sort of two hundred dollar cologne, and Jeremy’s chest feels tight as he wraps his arm around Gavin’s waist and hauls him to his feet.

He’s light and ridiculously _bendy_ , and flops against Jeremy like a beached fish once he’s upright.

“Oh my God!” Michael yells, from the other side of the field. “Don’t let him boss you around! Gav, he’s not your personal servant!”

“No, he’s just lovely and you’re rude,” Gavin shoots back. He’s pressed all against Jeremy’s side - Jeremy’s still holding onto his waist and he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. He can feel Gavin’s sharp hip under his hand; his fingers can wrap completely around the side of the other man’s waist - he finds he doesn’t want to let go.

Gavin turns to him and smiles. Their faces are far too close together, and Jeremy is suddenly overly conscious of his own breathing.

“Thanks Lil’ J!” he declares, brightly.

“Lil’ J?” Jeremy asks, but Geoff’s already roaring from nearby, “ _Lil’ J! I love it!”_

Even Michael’s nodding. Ryan, up above, raises a thumbs-up. Gavin beams at him, and presses a hand to his chest - looking at him a little too long before bouncing away, apparently now completely uninjured, to get on his bike again.

Jeremy’s heart is pounding. He can’t stop smiling as he stands there, watching the others ride around on this ridiculous course, as he hears Gavin again sing-song, loud and crowing, “ _Lil’ Ja-ay!”_ and feels, for real now, like he really is part of all this. Like he’s really one of them.

\---

So. That’s the crew, and that’s how Jeremy meets them-

But the more time he spends with them, the more he starts to get ever more confused about exactly what the hell he’s wandered into.

He supposes it’s to be expected that after being alive for hundreds of years, their social habits might be a little… awkward. A little _different_ to everyone else’s. After all, they’ve grown up and passed through a ridiculous number of decades, have known each other a hell of a long time.

But Jeremy just finds it _weird_ , the way they interact. Is it weird? Maybe it’s just him? 

It starts with Jack and Geoff, who he realises almost immediately are married. It’s the wedding rings that give it away. They’re not exactly subtle - enormous gold bands with gemstones the size of a generously large grape affixed to them - Jack’s emerald, Geoff’s ruby - they look like they came straight out of some pirate’s treasure chest, which they probably did, and although they must be hundreds of years old, they’re kept in shining, sparkling condition, and neither man ever takes them off, even when they’re heisting.

It’s not just the rings. There’s an easy affection between the two of them, whether they’re in the penthouse, or out and about - they’ll communicate with wordless glances, brush a hand over each other as they pass, always stand by each other’s sides, hands just touching - it’s so sweet that it always makes Jeremy smile. 

There’s something terribly romantic about it, he thinks - about a love that’s clearly lasted beyond any mortal lifespan. It’s like something from a movie. It almost makes _him_ crave the same thing, to see that that sort of thing is _possible_ , now that he knows there are other immortals out there - he gave up on dating before. It was simply too depressing knowing that whoever he met wouldn’t age alongside him, that there was no _real_ future for him.

Now he looks at Michael sometimes and thinks, _what if_ , but barely lets himself dare imagine any further, not yet, anyway.

Anyway. It’s one day, a couple of months after he first meets them, that he wakes up from a nap in the penthouse and wanders out to get a drink. He’s half-asleep still, in the dreamlike sort of daze that comes from time meaning nothing, not caring how long he slept or what time it is. It’s Winter and it gets dark so early now that even the cosy glow of lamplight in the apartment means nothing. He can hear two deep voices in the next room, conversing, a comforting low murmur, and after he gets his drink he wanders to the doorway to see who’s around, only to pause.

Jack’s sitting in his usual armchair, sprawled comfortably there with a glass of wine dangling from his fingertips. Ryan’s the only other one in the room - he’s standing by the fireplace, and as usual he looks like he’s come straight out of some Renaissance painting, still in his hunting boots with his hair tied back at the nape of his neck, his own glass in hand - but he’s got a funny smile on his face, and Jack’s chuckling at whatever it was he just said, and as Jeremy watches Ryan puts down his glass and pushes off the wall and stalks towards Jack, leaning in, hands coming to rest on the arms of the chair, trapping him in as he murmurs something too soft for Jeremy to hear. 

Their faces are so close that Jack must be able to feel Ryan’s breath on his lips, and there’s a wicked, almost predatory smile on Ryan’s face that sends a shiver down Jeremy’s spine just to look at it, and Jack’s eyes are warm and fond. He’s the one to reach up and grip the front of Ryan’s shirt, tugging him gently in until their lips press together.

Jeremy’s mouth drops open. He scurries away from the room, unheard, heart pounding.

_Holy shit, what was that?_ Is all he can think - and then a rather panicked, _Should I tell Geoff? Does he know about this?_ But he’s seen enough to know that none of these men are quite _normal_ , so he bides his time…

And it’s a good thing he does, because it’s only the next evening that he walks in on all three of them, lounging together on the big bed in Geoff’s room. Geoff had told him it was okay to come in when he knocked, looking for a charging cord, but he still freezes at the sight of it - Jack’s sound asleep, and Geoff’s sitting up in bed reading, and Ryan is sharpening a _knife_ , because that’s apparently an appropriate thing to do in bed, but all three of them are very close together, their legs tangled, and Ryan is very, very shirtless. He’s manscaped his chest hair into the shape of a skull. Jeremy’s not sure whether to laugh or cry.

“‘Sup Lil’ J,” Geoff says, without looking up from his book - Ryan just raises an eyebrow at him, which is somehow lowkey terrifying, and Jeremy sputters out some sort of greeting between “sup” and “good night” and “happy birthday” and leaves the room as quickly as he can, feeling flustered. 

Okay. Okay. This is apparently a thing. Maybe the three of them are together? Maybe this is just a thing that they _do_?

_But then_ , of course, he looks up from the couch one day when Ryan enters the apartment, and sees him cross into the kitchen, where Gavin is pottering about. He’s making instant noodles but it’s taking a long time because he seems to keep _adding_ stuff - an egg, and fish balls, and a whole bunch of spices that Jeremy’s pretty sure are _not_ meant to go together.

“Rye-bread,” he hears Gavin say, happily, and glances up in time to see Ryan come up behind him and wrap an arm around his waist - smooth his hair back with one hand before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. There’s something so tender about it that it makes Jeremy pause - a sweetness he didn’t expect from the other man.

Gavin doesn’t seem surprised - he just leans back against Ryan, and then for some absurd reason decides to try and stand on the other man’s feet, snickering away to himself. Jeremy looks away, confused.

That’s the point where he’s like, _okay, what the fuck is going on_?

He sees Ryan and Gavin a lot after that, and assumes they must be together. After heists Ryan whisks Gavin back to his manor on his motorbike and makes exactly no secret about what they’re going to do together - or they’ll go out for coffee dates and then spam the others with photographs of all the fancy looking things they’re eating. Gavin will smack Ryan on the backside when he passes him - an act which Jeremy is sure would get anyone else’s hand cut off with a machete, but Ryan just laughs and tries to catch the other man or pinch him - and Ryan keeps _buying_ Gavin things, new jewellery that usually has some sort of skull on it, earrings or rings or belt buckles in sparkling gold with various gemstones for the eyes.

Jeremy assumes they’ve started dating - but then, as suddenly as it began, it _stops_ , and instead Gavin starts spending more time with Jack and Geoff! This time _he’s_ the one who wanders into their bedroom and flops down between them, or grabs their hands when walking down the street, or sprawls out lazily between them while sunbathing on the beach, making exaggerated and frankly obscene groaning sounds when Jack insists on rubbing sunscreen over every inch of his back.

“But Jack, I’m _photosynthesising_ ,” Gavin protests.

“You are certainly not,” Jack replies - Gavin rolls onto his back, Jack making an annoyed sound as sand sticks all over his skin. 

“Oh my God, I’ve just had the _best_ idea. Humans should install solar panels in their backs for energy. It will replace eating and sleeping and you could charge your phone by plugging it into _yourself_. Let’s invent this. Ryan!” he hollers - the other man is standing staring pensively out into the ocean with his hands clasped behind his back. He’s wearing an eclectic combination of leather jacket on top and board-shorts printed with pirates underneath. “Ryan, you need to install solar panels in people’s backs!”

“You’re utterly ridiculous,” Jack sighs, and Jeremy can _see_ the cheeky grin on Gavin’s face as he wriggles across the sand like some sort of incredibly hairy worm and flops onto Jack’s lap, reaching up and twisting strands of the other man’s beard between his fingers.

“But you love me anyway,” he declares, and Jack rolls his eyes before kissing him. Geoff, struggling with a beach umbrella nearby, glances over at them with a soft smile.

Jeremy is absolutely _confused_! He has no idea what’s happening, who’s together or not - but it’s also kind of fun not to know, not to give in and ask, because it’s almost some sort of mystery or puzzle that he’d determined to work out for himself.

But of course, there is also Michael.

Michael who _he_ likes, more and more every passing day - who’s affectionate with Gavin, but Jeremy assumes they aren’t together, because he thought Gavin was with _Ryan_ , and even after seeing both of them with Jack and Geoff, they’re together often enough that he comes to the conclusion that it’s just some sort of arrangement they have.

At least until one evening he sees Michael lean down and kiss him where they’re spooning on the couch together, watching a movie. Gavin’s half-asleep but he rolls over and gives Michael a drowsy smile before snuggling closer against him.

Jeremy’s on the other couch, watching. Something cold and bitter rises up in his chest, making it hard to even breathe. He’s not sure what’s going on here, but he knows he doesn’t like it. Even if he hasn’t directly admitted it to himself before now, the sight of whatever the fuck _this_ is makes it very clear that he wants Michael himself, maybe.

So much for that.

Of course Michael would prefer Gavin. Gavin’s gorgeous, and funny, and they’ve known each other so much longer - Jeremy’s positively _boring_ in comparison.

“So Gavin and Ryan broke up then,” he can’t help saying the next day, after spending an entire night simmering with resentment and entertaining weird thoughts about running away to Paris and eloping with some sort of glamorous French immortal. For some reason, in his head, Paris seems the place to find love, right? Except everyone there will be even more fashionable and probably two heads taller than Jeremy. Dear God, he just can’t win.

“What?” Michael asks, from where he’s trying and failing to make froth art on the top of his latte. It looks like a misshapen penis. Or maybe that’s intentional. “No?”

“But they’re… last night I saw you guys… aren’t you and Gav together?”

“Ehhh,” is Michael’s eloquent response to that. “Sometimes.”

He vigorously sprinkles chocolate powder over the entire top of his mug, concealing his failed attempt.

_Sometimes?_ Jeremy thinks. _What the fuck does that mean?_

Michael finally looks up, and notices his confusion. A slow grin spreads over his face.

“Who do you think is together?” he asks, and there’s something mischievous in his voice that really makes Jeremy think he must be missing something obvious here. Still - he plays along, because it’s stopped really being funny, now. He feels left out, which is never nice.

“Jack and Geoff,” he begins - Michael nods, sagely.

“A sensible guess.”

“And…” Jeremy trails off with a helpless shrug, and Michael laughs now, his familiar infectious sniggers. He slings an arm around Jeremy’s shoulders and tugs him close, fondly - some petty part of Jeremy wants to pull away, but he can’t help but lean into the other man’s touch.

“Oh, Lil’ J,” Michael says - for some reason, the nickname sends a little thrill through him, reassures him that he really is one of them - “We’ve known each other hundreds of years. Anyone else we might have cared about is long fucking dead and buried. I can’t remember the last time one of us was in a relationship with someone outside our little immortal social circle here. Geoff and Jack are married, of course, but aside from that, I guess we’re all just constantly sort of together? We dated and broke up so many times in so many different combinations that by now we’re just like, fuck it. Everyone’s together. Sometimes different pairs start getting closer at different times, but for the most part, it’s just whoever you’re in the mood for.”

“Oh,” is all Jeremy can reply. Michael says it so matter-of-factly that it just seems like an obvious progression of events. He supposes it is.

Michael thumps him heartily on the back a few times.

“So don’t worry yourself over it!” he declares. “Yeah, people break up now and then, but it never lasts more than a few years.”

A few _years_ \- well, he supposes that’s nothing in the scheme of things. He gives a weak smile, and Michael jostles him again before pulling away.

“Come on then,” he declares. “We’re going out tonight, remember? Gonna literally burn some bridges, then watch the havoc from that restaurant up in the sky tower.”

“Was anyone else coming?” Jeremy asks, and Michael shakes his head as he picks up his mug again and wanders off.

“Just us two!”

Jeremy watches him leave. On the one hand, this new tidbit of information has him relieved that, y’know, he hasn’t been witnessing a series of permanent break-ups or episodes of cheating. On the other hand…

Knowing that all the others are _together_ only leaves him even more uncertain of his place with them. He feels even more like the sixth wheel, now, and isn’t quite sure what to think, or where this is going. Still - for now, he thinks, happily, he has plans with Michael, and that’s always fun, and wherever it takes him, they have time to figure it out.

\---

(Michael kisses him that night, in the dimly lit restaurant with the city revolving slowly below them and the winter sky fire-red from the blaze he set, sending crimson shimmers out over the ocean in the distance, and Jeremy feels a bit like he’s drowning himself, and he’s still not _sure_ about all the others, but Michael, Michael is there in his arms and smiling at him with those warm bright eyes, and he’s sure about that, at least, the two of them _together_ -)

\---

Of course, because their group is so small, and has so much _history_ , and now that Jeremy realises they’re all fucking each other-

There is, he realises ruefully, rather a lot of group drama.

He supposes he should’ve expected this. Instead, he’d thought that people who are literally hundreds of years old would be somewhat more mature.

That’s not the case. If anything, they’re _worse_ \- they bicker constantly, and fight over the smallest things, and constantly try to one-up each other, and Jeremy’s waded right into the middle of it - there are ongoing fights, mysterious “incidents,” and the vast majority of this takes place in the dreaded _group chat_.

Said group chat is located on WhatsApp, although there are constant arguments about switching to Facebook (“The police will track us!” Jack always protests, to which Michael, infuriated, will roar, “ _Facebook owns WhatsApp_!”

“Guys, I seriously suggest relocating to Snapchat,” Gavin will pipe up, “It disappears once you’re done with it!”

“No it doesn’t, fool,” from Ryan, filing his nails to sharp points on the couch, “They save it all to blackmail people with later. Besides, we can’t all be in the one chat.”)

Either way, Jeremy is invited to join soon after he is acquainted with the crew, and is immediately confused as, of course, there are _sub-chats_ \- the ‘Lads’ chat, comprised of just himself, Michael and Gavin, the private ‘Gents’ chat that the older ones have, the ‘Mature Adults’ chat (himself, Jack, Geoff, and occasionally Ryan depending on how many people he’s killed that week,) the ‘Motorbike enthusiasts’ chat (himself, Ryan and Gavin), and the ‘Heist Planning’ chat (everyone except Gavin, who has been banned due to some sort of drama involving a rocket launcher and three firetrucks, and is pending readmission depending on his behaviour for the rest of the year.)

For the most part, though, most of the havoc takes place in the main chat, which is constantly being renamed ridiculous things, and is currently under the incredibly classy title of _Rectal Evacuation_.

**Jeremy:**  
Okay but why 

**Gavin:**  
Because everyone here talks out of their asses, especially a CERTAIN SOMEONE 

**Ryan:**  
You will never be correct about the coin argument 

**Jeremy:**  
… :O 

**Michael:**  
Oh god, don’t let them fucking start, that argument has been banned until 2024

**Gavin:  
** But Jeremy could be the new judge, Michael! Jeremy, are you good at maths, Jeremy? 

**Jeremy:**  
not really?

 

At times he’s surprised they’re all even friends, because there seems to be an unholy amount of gossip and backstabbing going on, and about three times every week someone has an enormous fight purely in the chat, only to immediately reconcile upon seeing each other in person. No one ever seems to apologise or properly make up; for the most part, time really does, it seems, heal everything.

 

 **Gavin: (Lads Chat)**  
Oh my god, guys, Geoff is being a complete bitch again  
A big, old, ornery bitch  
a BOOB 

**Gavin:**  
Why does he think he gets to be in charge of everything we do  
Like who made him the boss

**Michael:**  
he started the crew dude 

 **Gavin:**  
Exactly! it’s so unfair  
We should have elections for new crew leader every ten years 

**Michael:**  
lmao 

**Gavin:**  
Don’t lmao me Michael it’s called a bloody democracy. He just doesn’t care about heists any more, every time I bring up some idea it’s always ‘too much collateral’ or ‘not worth the cleanup’ or ‘we did something similar to that already’. Well, they made all the Disney movies already but that’s not stopping them from remaking all of them, is it, in live-action with better effects and all 

**Gavin:**  
That’s actually a really good metaphor, no one steal that, I’m gonna use it when I fight with him later

**Gavin:**  
But for real, what’s wrong with flooding the entire sky with giant balloons and then one of them is secretly a blimp and we’re inside and in some of the balloons are explosives 

**Michael:**  
that is literally the stupidest idea i’ve ever heard, no fucking wonder he doesn’t want to do it 

**Gavin:**  
Okay but my idea about electing a new crew leader every ten years is good, isn’t it

**Jeremy:**  
That could be interesting maybe? 

**Gavin:**  
Lil J has my back, thanks Lil J 

**Gavin:**  
Anyway 

**Gavin:**  
I hate him and I’ve hidden a live tiger snake in his glovebox 

**Michael** :  
GAVIN WTF

\--- 

**Geoff: (Rectal Evacuation)**  
gavin

**Geoff:  
** im gonna kill you

**Geoff:**  
gavin is exiled to western australia, effective immediately, be out of the penthouse by 6pm tonight or i’ll set all your cars on fire

**Geoff:**  
and don’t come back for at least ten years.  

**Gavin:**  
:(  geoff it was meant to be an exotic new pet for you 

**Gavin:**  
y u gotta hate 

**Geoff:**  
I hope your face gets eaten by a fucking drop bear 

**Ryan:**  
Alternatively, Geoff, hand him over to me - I could do with a new test subject for my experiments. 

**Gavin:**  
Unfortunately, Geoff, you’re not the crew leader anymore. We’ve moved to a democracy and we’re gonna elect someone new 

**Michael:**  
i vote geoff 

**Jack:**  
Geoff! 

**Ryan:**  
Geoff 

**Geoff:**  
B) enjoy your new kangaroo friends, bitch! 

\---

For the most part, Jeremy just lurks, too shy to join in. After he and Michael become… whatever it is they are (together? boyfriends? one pair within the polyglomerate?) he gains a little more confidence, but still. There’s just so much _history_ between all the others, so much that he doesn’t know yet, that he still feels rather unsure of himself. 

But it doesn’t matter. For now, everything seems to be swimming along, and he stays out of the drama, just watches in faint amusement and sticks closer to Michael and slowly tries to get to know the others more.

Which brings us back to here, now: in the bed with Michael and Gavin, and Jeremy’s sudden existential crisis about what exactly is going on here - if all _three_ of them are together now? If he’s part of the entire _sixsome_ and just didn’t realise it yet? Who can tell. All he does know is that he loves it when Gavin smiles at him, and he fancies there’s something more intimate in how Gavin looks at him, speaks to him, rests a hand on his arm when he leans in close to whisper in his ear, and he’s rather looking forward to seeing where this takes them all.

\---

Of course, before he can even _begin_ to enjoy this new step in their relationship, Michael and Gavin have a BBF.

**Jeremy: (Mature Adults)**  
Wait, they’re having a what? 

 **Geoff:**  
A BBF I TELL YOU  
it started in the car this morning 

**Jack:**  
A “big bitch fight” 

**Jeremy:**  
Okay…?

**Jack:**  
Don’t worry about it, Jeremy. It happens every few years with the two of them. Something sets them off and they go from best friends to hating each other’s guts and wanting to outdo each other. It usually blows over. 

**Jeremy:**  
In how long? 

**Jack:**  
Few months, maybe? 

_A few months?_ That’s nothing in the scheme of things. But still - something uncomfortable builds up in Jeremy’s chest, because he likes both of them, Michael _and_ Gavin, and this is the first real tension or conflict he’s seen between two members of the crew, and even if no one can _really_ get hurt.. it’s frightening.

Later, he’s in his own apartment in the same building, drawing - it’s good to have a hobby, nowadays, and he certainly has more than enough time to practice - when he hears the others return.

He hears them because whatever they’re driving smashes right into the fucking side of the building with a tremendous _crash_ and the sound of shattering glass.

“ _Fucking hell!”_ Geoff yells, somewhere on the floor above them.

Jeremy sets down his pencil, biting his lip, and goes up to the penthouse to wait alongside the rest of them. Ryan’s up there too, lurking silently, while Geoff paces and refuses to look out the window and assess the damage.

When Gavin and Michael finally step out of the lift and stalk inside, Jeremy can’t help but stare - they’re dusty and bruised and bleeding from numerous scratches, but they’re also both _glaring_ at each other, so intensely that Jeremy can feel the simmering rage from all the way across the room. Geoff and Jack exchange a silent glance; Ryan, leaning against the wall nearby, raises his eyebrows.

“You alright?” Jack asks, tentatively.

He reaches for Gavin, the closest, but the other man shakes him off irritably and folds his arms. There’s a single strand of blonde hair flopping over his forehead, and his expensive shirt is stained and torn, one lens of his Prada sunglasses cracked.

“Oh, I am just _fine_ , Jack,” he replies, in a tone that heavily implies he is really not fine at all.

“Yes Jack,” Michael cuts in, snidely, “He’s perfectly fine! Fine enough to blow up my new fucking plane!”

“Oh, not the _gold_ plane,” Geoff wails - he’d paid for half of it, Jeremy realises, cringing terribly.

“And _he’s_ fine enough to destroy all my new cars!” Gavin shoots back. “Those cost over _four million dollars_ , Michael! But it’s _fine_ ,” he repeats, sneering, “He’s just salty because he proved he’s a big fucking coward.”

It seems an odd thing to say considering none of them can _die_ \- what’s there to be scared of? But Michael seems to take offence to it, bristling like a startled cat.

“I’m not a fucking coward,” he shoots back.

“Yes you are!” Gavin sing-songs. “Little scaredy-cat Michael! Too scared to come rob the military base with me! Were you worried you wouldn’t be able to pull it off?”

“Just because I wasn’t in the fucking mood-“

“You’re _never_ in the mood nowadays! You’ve lost your edge!” Gavin cries. “But it doesn’t matter. We’re gonna sort this out one way or another, aren’t we?”

Michael’s lip curls back, haughtily.

“Of course,” he spits, and they glower at each one another.

“Wait,” Geoff cuts in, glancing between them. “What’s going on?”

Gavin whirls on his heel to face him.

“We’re having a heist contest, Geoffrey,” he announces. “Since Michael’s too chicken to come to the military base and get a jet-“

“For the last time-”

“He wants to prove himself by pulling off an even bigger heist!” Gavin announces. “Well, he shan’t win. My heist will be bigger and _better_ and far more impressively dangerous.”

“Bitch, your heist will fucking fail like they always do,” Michael snaps, “And then you’ll just go around throwing another big tantrum because you’re nothing but a whiny little baby. Wah, wah, wah!” 

He proceeds to make such vigorous fake crying noises that his entire face goes bright red, he’s screwing it up so much. Gavin stares at him coldly. With one eye slowly swelling black, he looks rather like an indignant, lopsided raccoon.

“Just you wait, Michael,” he says, finally. It appears that he’s trying to sound threatening, but he can’t quite pull it off when he’s covered in dirt. “I’ll show you! And now, I’m off to order more cars.”

“You’d better order me a replacement plane while you’re at it,” Michael says.

Gavin stalks off, slamming the door behind him. Michael turns to Jeremy, who can only stare at him - he’s never seen Michael this angry before, and is rather nervous.

“Jeremy,” he orders, “Meet me downstairs after I shower.”

“Um,” Jeremy replies, but Michael’s already turning and marching out as well. There’s a slightly stunned silence, before the others all sigh, shaking their heads and rolling their eyes.

“This happens all the time,” Jack says, turning to Jeremy. “They get in a pissing contest, do something stupid, then it all blows over. Sounds like they’ll be preoccupied for a while planning these heists, anyway.”

“What was the fight even about?” Jeremy asks.

“Who even knows,” Jack replies. “Probably just messing around with each other gone too far, as usual.”

“Well I’m staying out of it,” Geoff announces. “I’m getting too old for this shit! They’re gonna destroy my whole city again.”

“Good idea,” Jack says, “Taking sides usually only escalates things. Although,” and he looks over at Ryan, “I suppose you’ll be helping out Gavin.”

Ryan just shrugs, a small smile tugging at one side of his lips.

“Someone has to,” he says.

Jack rolls his eyes again.

“You’re too soft,” he says, which to be quite honest is not something Jeremy ever thought he’d hear about _Ryan_. Before he can dwell on it, Jack reaches out and tugs at Geoff’s arm. “Come on, then. Let’s enjoy some peace before this all really kicks off.”

“I’m gonna go on a long fucking fishing trip,” Geoff grumbles, and Jack laughs.

“You’d come back to find the city burnt to the ground.”

Jeremy stands there, still feeling rather unsure of himself and all that’s happened. The others soon leave, but Ryan lingers behind. Jeremy’s still rather nervous in his presence, but he can feel Ryan’s eyes on him, and he looks up and gives a rueful little smile.

“I have no fucking idea what’s going on,” he admits.

Ryan snorts loudly.

“Lots of havoc,” he replies. “Destruction. A lot of money being spent on elaborate and ridiculous plans. Basically, _fun_.”

“But they’re fighting,” Jeremy protests - he saw the genuine venom they were looking at each other with, even if the others didn’t seem to notice - Ryan just shrugs.

“Don’t worry, it’s never serious. We fight, we break up, we get back together eventually. There are… very few things that have a permanent effect on this group.”

There’s something in the way he says it, some barely noticeable note in his voice, that makes Jeremy pause. He’s not sure why.

“What sort of things do?” he asks, tentatively.

Ryan looks away, suddenly oddly serious.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “Things will be fine, Jeremy. Trust me. In the meantime - enjoy this chance to cause a little chaos, hm?”

Jeremy gives a small smile. Ryan smiles back, then to Jeremy’s surprise, reaches out and touches his shoulder. Jeremy stares at him - heart fluttering, oddly warmed, even _more_ fucking uncertain what’s going on between all of them, where he fits in here - but Ryan turns to leave, and Jeremy can’t find the words to ask.

\---

Jeremy’s sitting on Michael’s bed, waiting for him, when he emerges from the shower. Michael looks surprised - then his face breaks into a small, fond smile. It’s not the first time they’ve waited for each other of an evening, Jeremy thinks, they’re comfortable in each other’s space - but he shakes himself. That’s not what’s happening here.

“Feeling better?” he asks.

“A bit,” Michael replies. He tosses his towel onto a pile of clothes in the corner and slumps down on the bed beside Jeremy, curling into his side and resting his head on his shoulder. His hair’s still a little damp, but Jeremy doesn’t mind, snuggling in closer to him.

“So what’s going on with you guys?” he asks, and Michael sighs so heavily that Jeremy feels the puff of breath against his cheek.

“Gavin’s just being an asshole,” he mutters.

“Yes, but what _happened_?”

“He keeps pestering me to do shit with him,” Michael explains, a tight note of frustration in his voice. “Then gets pissy when I don’t give him attention whenever he wants me to. He wanted me to take him for a ride in my new plane, but I was in the middle of doing shit - so he stole the keys and took it himself and fucking _crashed it!_ I’d barely even gotten to use it yet!”

“We went up in it the other day,” Jeremy murmurs - and that had been fun; he’d never seen a jet so luxurious. Just him and Michael, up in the clouds away from everyone else, watching the sprawl of the city under them, the mountains and bays and the sparkling blue ocean. Expensive, bubbling champagne on his tongue, and the taste of it on Michael’s when they kissed. How his stomach lurched when Michael brought the plane into expert, swooping dives and graceful arcs.

“Yeah, and that’s the only time we did,” Michael replies. “Now he’s fucked it up! Anyway, I blew up all his shit in retaliation, but then he started pestering me to come out to the military base to get one of their fighter jets, and when I wouldn’t, he got pissy and we ended up having a fight.”

Jeremy presses his lips together, but Michael’s already shaking his head.

“He’s just being a brat as always,” he sighs. “But I need to teach him a lesson, so I’m gonna pull off an even better heist than him.”

“Couldn’t you just, I dunno. Apologise?” Jeremy ventures, weakly. Because they fight all the time, but things were going so _well_ that he doesn’t like this tension and how unsure it makes him feel about _his_ place with Gavin.

“ _He_ should fucking apologise to _me_!” Michael cries. “I’m so mad about that fucking plane! Plus he’s just generally been an asshole lately. But you’ll help me, won’t you?”

His hand comes to rest on Jeremy’s hip, rubbing gentle circles. There’s something so intimate in the motion that it makes Jeremy melt.

“I need people on my side,” Michael continues. “Can’t pull off a heist on my own, can I?”

Jeremy smiles. He’s heard all about the Fake AH Crew’s legendary heists, but they’ve been so into racing and vehicles lately that they haven’t done any big ones, and he’s excited at the thought of finally getting involved.

“Of course I’m on your side,” he replies, but pauses. “But will it upset Gavin?”

“Nah,” Michael says, dismissively. “Not if I got first dibs on you. Just ignore him if he tells you any shit trying to convince you to go over to his side, hm? But anyway,” he adds, before Jeremy can really protest, “Help me come up with some big, grand idea.”

“What, you don’t have one already?” Jeremy teases.

Michael laughs.

“Gavin will think of something ridiculously extravagant, no doubt. We need to outmatch him. But that’s what you’re for,” he says, and gives Jeremy a fond nudge, shifting closer to him on the bed. “I could do with someone new and creative.”

His tone is teasing, but there’s something genuine and proud under it. Their faces are close and Jeremy suddenly can’t look away from his dark eyes. The swell in his chest feels a lot like love.

\---

So that’s where the drama all begins, really.

True to their word, Geoff and Jack stay well out of it. They spend most of their time out together, either keeping the city running smoothly or going out on fishing trips, only chiming in now and then to comment on what idiots the others are being.

And at first, Jeremy had thought Michael was just playing along to humour Gavin - but he quickly comes to realise that he’s just as invested in this as the others are. Whatever Gavin did must have pissed him off real bad, because he’s fucking determined to win, and before long they're both in a God damn frenzy, working themselves into a fit trying to prepare the most lavish, over-dramatic heist possible.

Michael’s idea involves a lot of fireworks, explosions, and a battering ram shaped like a dragon (very Lord of the Rings, in Jeremy’s opinion). They’re hitting the ugliest building in the city, a tower hotel owned by some asshole billionaire, and a fucking eyesore because it’s bright red in colour and sticks out above the rest of the city, ruining the overall aesthetic like some “protruding lobster dick,” as Geoff always calls it. Not only does Michael want to destroy the place, but he plans on robbing the personal suite of the owner, who supposedly keeps diamonds there (“Diamonds - fucking classic,” is his logic). 

“My dream is making a firecracker that looks like a dragon like that one from the start of the Fellowship of the Ring,” he informs Jeremy, perfectly seriously. “I reckon we can figure out how to do something like that.”

Jeremy doesn’t know much about how that will work, but he doesn’t mind helping out. They spend a lot of nights out in the fields surrounding the city, under the stars with the waves of the ocean roaring in the background, various coloured lights and sparks swooping through the night air around them. With glowing sparks raining down around them like fireflies, there’s something surreal and dreamlike about it all, like they’ve entered some fairy realm, just the two of them, and nothing else matters.

It’s all very big and extravagant, and being in it all alongside Michael - being privy to his secret plans, plotting together over drinks at home, or on the beach, or in cafes or their long car rides up and down the coast, is _fun -_ seems to bring them closer together.

But, of course, there’s Gavin too. He hasn’t told Jeremy any details about his heist.

“Fuck off, you’ll just tell Michael,” he snaps, the first time Jeremy approaches him after all this shit goes down.

“I wouldn’t,” Jeremy replies, a bit hurt by how harsh his tone is - how he’s turned away, arms folded tightly, like he’s pissed with Jeremy too? But Jeremy didn’t do anything - and he thinks about Gavin’s sweet kisses and lingering touches and how he used to look at Jeremy so softly with his pretty eyes, and he’d thought _they_ were together, too. Maybe he was wrong.

He leaves, not wanting to annoy him further, but an uncomfortable tightness in his chest.

“Did I do something to piss Gavin off?” he asks Michael, later.

“No,” Michael replies, absently, gaze trained on his laptop screen. “I did.”

“Yeah, but is he mad I sided with you? He shouldn’t be, right?”  
  
“Who knows what goes through his idiot head,” Michael says. He seems unconcerned.

Jeremy bites his lip, unsure what to do. As it is, things resolve themselves; he’s the only one in the penthouse a few days later when Gavin suddenly materialises and jerks awake on the couch, gasping and clutching his chest. Jeremy looks up from where he was sitting at the table. 

“You die?” he asks.

Gavin catches his breath, chest heaving.

“Heist preparations went a _bit_ wrong,” he replies, and coughs a few times. “Oops. Might have to revise that stage of the plan, if that trial run was anything to go by.”

“Want some tea?” Jeremy asks. He knows it can be hard coming back, depending on how you died. They’re all terribly jaded by now, used to just about any kind of death - but if it’s something where your body gets so fucked up you materialise somewhere else instead of just waking up (it’s usually somewhere familiar to you - the penthouse for most of them, but Jeremy still his old flat), it can rattle you a bit.

Gavin nods. Jeremy goes to make him some, and by the time he returns Gavin’s sitting up with his arms wrapped around his knees. He looks less glamorous, here, with his hair flat and no makeup, dark shadows under his eyes - when you’re reborn, it’s like that. Real and raw, nothing but your natural flesh.

Jeremy sits beside him and passes him the mug. Gavin glances at him, and Jeremy feels nervous suddenly, but takes a deep breath. He has to know if he pissed him off.

“Gavin-”  
  
“Jeremy-”

Their voices ring out in unison and they both freeze, startled, before giving awkward laughs. Jeremy motions for Gavin to continue, and he takes a deep breath.

“Sorry about the last time we talked.” The words come out in a rush, but they’re more sincere than anything he usually says. “I was an ass. This isn’t your fault - I’m mad at Michael, and I took it out on you.”

“I know I’m helping him, but-”

“No, it’s understandable,” Gavin assures him. “He got close to you first, and he asked you for help first.” He looks away, fists clenching briefly. “He just… really hurt my feelings, so I’m determined to beat him in this! But don’t worry,” he adds, voice brighter. “I’ve got something epic planned.”

“I’m not sure if I should be worried by the sound of that!” Jeremy teases, and is glad when Gavin gives a more genuine smile.

“Still,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Gav.” Jeremy smiles too, something warm and relieved flooding his entire body. They stare at each other for a moment, then Gavin puts a hand on his shoulder, and leans in, and kisses him. Jeremy hadn’t realised how much he missed that; the faint scratch of his stubble, the bump of his nose against his cheek, and everything feels right again - like whatever’s going on between the rest of them, at least Jeremy’s position is fine for now.

“What did Michael do?” he asks softly, when they pull apart.

Gavin’s face clouds over, and he turns away.

“Doesn’t matter,” he mutters.

“He’s told me what happened,” Jeremy presses, “But I’m guessing there’s more than one side to the story.”

"Nah,” is Gavin’s comprehensive response to that. He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, so Jeremy doesn’t push further, just squeezes Gavin’s shoulder until the other man smiles again, and reaches for his mug. “Thanks for the tea! Now could I persuade you to tell me what _he’s_ planning?”

“Not a chance,” Jeremy chuckles. “I know you’ll try and sabotage it!”

“How _dare_ you!” Gavin gasps. “I would not! How could you even think such a thing?”

“I don’t know, maybe because every time we even play board games you break the rules and try to sabotage people?”

“Look, if your piece gets hit by the car piece in Monopoly, you have to pay a hospital bill! That’s how life _works_ , Jeremy!”

\---

The deadline for the heists has been set for three months away. That is not _nearly_ enough time.

Before long, everyone’s feeling the tension, and rushing about all over the place trying to get things in order, barely sleeping. The weather’s getting hotter, too, which isn’t helping. Either a lethargic haze settles over everyone, making it difficult to focus - or their tempers get hotter too.

Every time Michael and Gavin are in a room together, it’s all glaring and snide comments. Gavin’s moved out of the penthouse entirely and now just stays at Ryan’s manor, only popping in now and again to leech off their food. Geoff and Jack are still just waiting for all this to blow over, not attempting to get in on any of it.

Jeremy’s just glad no one’s mad at _him_ , even if he sometimes finds himself having to mediate the drama between the other two men - especially when Gavin keeps trying to get him to betray Michael and turn to his side.

\---

**Gavin: (team little britain super secret chat no one else allowed)**  
Hey Lil’ J… my heist now involves two hundred live geese… 

**Jeremy:**  
That’s really not an incentive, they’re all gonna inevitably turn on you! 

\---

**Gavin:**  
Jeremy! I need someone small enough to fit through a vent

**Gavin:**  
Please 

**Gavin:**  
You’re the only one I can turn to 

**Gavin:**  
The only one lil’ enough 

**Gavin:**  
Help me Jeremy you’re my only hope 

 **Jeremy:**  
…..  
I’m lowkey offended 

**Gavin:**  
But we’re putting your natural assets to good use! 

**Jeremy:**  
You won’t be seeing any of my natural assets for a while if you keep mentioning how short I am. 

**Gavin:**  
:( 

 **Jeremy:**  
Besides, you’re more than small enough to fit through a vent. I’d probably get wedged! 

 **Gavin:**  
Yes  
With your broad, manly shoulders <3 

**Jeremy:**  
Still not helping you 

**Gavin:**  
:( :( :( 

\---

**Jeremy:**  
Stop sending flowers to my apartment, I won’t be bribed! 

**Jeremy:**  
Besides, you already have Ryan!

**Gavin:  
** Yes but I want you too, I want your first big heist to be with me. 

**Jeremy:**  
… 

**Jeremy:**  
Then make up with Michael and we can all do one together?

He gets no reply to that message, and can’t help but continue wondering exactly what happened between the two of them. 

\--- 

Jeremy enters the penthouse one day to find Ryan, sprawled out on the couch. He hasn’t seen the other man in quite a while, and was wondering what he was up to - then again, all of them have been ridiculously busy.

It’s a wonderfully bright day, the room awash with sunlight - the weather’s stinking hot outside, but the blissful, air conditioned room feels lovely and cool. Ryan’s got his hair pulled back in a braid; he has no mask or face paint on, and is wearing a tank top and shorts that are far shorter than Jeremy ever expected to see the Vagabond in. He tries not to stare. Ryan’s just sort of… lounging there, eating a Cornetto. 

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Jeremy comments. He’s less nervous around Ryan nowadays, but they’re still not _close_ , and it’s always a little awkward being alone with him.

“I’ve been in Hong Kong,” Ryan replies, nonchalantly.

“Doing what?”

“Prepping some stuff for the heist.” Ryan raises his eyebrows, fixing Jeremy with a scrutinising look - he knows he’s working with Michael, of course he does, but he’s never commented. Jeremy wonders, suddenly, if Gavin ever talks to him about the whole situation. What Ryan thinks of all this.

“What does Gavin need from Hong Kong?”

“I’ve been instructed not to consort with the enemy,” Ryan informs him, and Jeremy can’t quite tell if he’s joking or not.

“I’m not the enemy,” he says, but turns away and gets himself a cold beer before sitting at the table nearby, texting.

Something’s gone wrong on Michael’s end with the explosives he was meant to be picking up today, and their chat is filled with strings of expletives. Jeremy sighs and shakes his head as he starts to reply, trying to help out - everyone’s getting more and more frustrated as the deadline for this heist competition draws nearer.

“How have you been, then, Jeremy?” Ryan asks abruptly, his voice making Jeremy jump a little. He puts his phone down, and looks up to find the other man watching him.  
  
“Oh my God, so busy,” he replies. “I’ll be glad to just finally actually _do_ this.”

Ryan nods, thoughtfully.

“Agreed… things always reach a point where the planning just starts to become unbearably tedious. Prep time is the worst, but sadly, so necessary. It’s worth it for the fun of the actual heist going smoothly.”

Jeremy grunts in agreement.

“Well, I’ll be glad when everyone’s friends again, too,” he adds. “It’s getting tiring with the two of them at each other’s throats constantly. Do you know what caused all this?”

“Gavin doesn’t want to talk about it,” Ryan replies, smoothly, but something about the look on his face makes Jeremy think he must be wondering, as well. He nods, and doesn’t push the subject, but he can’t help being disappointed.

He means it. He’s sick of the conflict. He misses getting to spend time with Gavin, because even if the two of them aren’t fighting, with him out of the penthouse and everyone so busy, Jeremy sees him much less.

A moment later, the door bursts open and the man in question walks in. Jeremy surprises himself with how much something excited, nervous, _relieved_ rises up in his chest - something almost longing. He’s gotten closer than he thought.

“Ryan! You’re back!” Gavin cries, his face lighting up as soon as he sees the other man. He looks different nowadays, though no less glamorous - his hair darker, so it doesn’t look so strange with his tan now that summer’s here. More bronze than golden, streaked lighter in places by the sun. He bounces over to the couch and pulls Ryan into a passionate kiss, the other man leaning into it easily - Jeremy watches them, feeling almost left out.

“Is everything ready?” Gavin breathes out when they pull apart, his hands still cradling Ryan’s face.

“Exactly as planned,” Ryan replies, in a low voice. They sound like two supervillains, Jeremy can’t help thinking.

“Good,” Gavin says, but Ryan catches his wrist when he starts to move away.

“But,” he adds, “We need more manpower. I don’t think this can work with just the two of us. We might be immortal but sadly we haven’t yet mastered the power of bilocation.”

Jeremy sees Gavin’s brows furrow a little.

“It’s too dangerous for our mortal friends,” he says.

“We’ll work it out,” Ryan assures him. “Later, once I’m not so jetlagged.”

Gavin smiles. He squeezes Ryan’s hand then moves away, starting to bounce into the kitchen. He passes Jeremy, at the table, and Jeremy’s not sure where he gets the sudden burst of confidence from, but before he knows it he reaches out as Gavin passes and snags him around the waist, tugging him closer.

“Hey,” he says, letting a teasing note cover any other emotion that might be in his voice. “I’m here too!”

“Yes, Lil’ J,” Gavin replies, sweetly. “Hello. Did you miss Ryan?”

Jeremy smiles, and nods over at Ryan, who nods back. The question’s a little bit awkward, because he never really talks to Ryan alone, isn’t _with_ him like he is with the other lads… or at least, he doesn’t think so. It’s a bit strange, the things that are assumed between them all sometimes. But he did miss him - he misses _all_ of them hanging out together as a group of six. 

Gavin nestles against him, but it’s far too hot to be cuddling, and he pulls away a moment later - but not before planting a gentle kiss to Jeremy’s neck. Mostly because it’s the only part of him he can reach at their current angle, but it sends a shiver down Jeremy’s spine anyway, even as Gavin squirms away and heads into the kitchen, where he begins mixing something in a glass vigorously.

“Ryan!” he calls out, from the other room. “Now that you’re back, we need to fully get stuck into phase three.”

“Yes, dear,” Ryan replies, while Jeremy stares at him open-mouthed.

“And you’re gonna need to get that tank somehow,” Gavin orders, “You’ll have to disguise yourself and infiltrate the military base, probably, but we can’t waste any time about it!”

“Of course.”

“And you need to make some of these phone calls for me! I hate speaking to them, I can’t understand their accents. You’re from the South, you know what it means when they drawl all their words together so you can barely understand them.”  
  
“I’m on it,” Ryan says, patiently.

“And don’t forget to order the animatronic tiger!”  
  
“Already have it set up, I just need to pay the company.”

_What the fuck is this heist,_ Jeremy thinks.

Gavin strides back in, bossily, holding a glass of some sort of lime green substance. Jeremy can only stare between them, bemused - he would’ve thought Ryan, with his notorious reputation, would be annoyed by being ordered around like a maid - but he’s just smiling, fondly.

Then again, this is fairly typical for the two of them. They bicker sometimes, but they’re some of the closest in the group. Or at least, the more obvious about it - then again, Ryan’s close with the gents, too. And with Michael, when they’re not on opposite sides of this whole civil war fiasco.

_Everyone except me_ , Jeremy thinks, but shakes it off. He’s barely even sure how _he_ feels about the older members of the crew.

“Why’d you do everything he says?” he asks Ryan, instead.

Gavin smirks, and saunters over to the couch, perching on the armrest and slinging his ankle over Ryan’s knee.

“Ryan and I have an arrangement,” he announces. “He does whatever I want. And in return, I let him do whatever he wants to me.”

He wiggles his eyebrows up and down suggestively. It looks ridiculous, but the statement still makes Jeremy blush for some reason, although he thinks he really should be used to this by now.

“Oh,” is all he manages to say. Gavin stretches back on the couch, nearly topples off the armrest, spills half of his drink, but still grins at Jeremy.

“You could join in this arrangement,” he suggests, voice low and breathy in a way that really should be illegal.

Jeremy stares at him, mouth open a little, unable to think of what to say, because _Ryan’s_ looking at him too now. They make a funny contrast - all Ryan’s pale skin on display, his face bare for once, his eyes very blue - Gavin perched next to him, lithe and tan and smiling far too wickedly. It’s a bit hard to breathe, suddenly.

His phone buzzes, breaking him out of his reverie. He glances down. Michael’s still working himself into a fit.

**Michael: (team short temper)**  
God fuckin damn it 

 **Michael:**  
Okay Jeremy, we need a new plan. The grenades aren’t gonna work, I think  
I can’t get a long enough fuse in there 

**Michael:**  
Shit 

**Michael:**  
fuck

**Michael:**  
Okay, come meet me asap, we’re gonna need to figure out something new 

There’s desperation in his tone, even just over text. Michael’s been stressed lately, more so than usual. Jeremy shakes himself, and looks up at the two of them, still watching him intently. He forces a grin.

“Sorry, Gav. You can’t seduce me over to the dark side.”

Gavin pouts, but flings an arm out lazily and prods at Ryan’s shoulder.

“Maybe _Ryan_ can,” he suggests. Ryan doesn’t protest, just turns his intense gaze to Jeremy.

_That_ makes his heart skip a bit. But he thinks about Michael, and just laughs, and rises, and drains the rest of his beer before going to meet the other man.

\---

Things get worse after that, now that there’s not long to go and not enough time to arrange anything, with deadlines to meet and plans to make and security schedules to memorise. It leaves them all too tired to do anything much.

But still - there’s something nice about the small, shared grins Jeremy and Michael will exchange when they finally complete a task, about how they’ll flop down at night in bed together, too exhausted to do much but still making sure they’ve got a shoulder touching, or an arm slung over each other - something intimate about being awake late into the night with just the two of them in the quiet, empty apartment, working hard, taking breaks now and then to grab a drink or hurriedly eat Chinese takeaway.

Michael looks good even sleepy and dishevelled and in need of a shave, Jeremy thinks - it’s nice to see him like this, more settled, not putting on any sort of disguise or costume or act. They stay up late into the night, talking, get to know each other more - there’s a closeness that comes with all that.

He wonders if Gavin and Ryan feel the same way, working on their own heist together - or if they’re already so used to each other that it barely matters anymore.

\--- 

**Geoff: (Rectal Evacuation)**  
So when will this shitfest be over again? 

**Gavin:**  
Are you placing bets on who’ll win? Because you should definitely bet on me. We’ve got geese. 

**Michael:**  
We’ve got explosions, and you’re not gonna win 

**Gavin:**  
I’ve got Ryan on my side!

**Michael:  
** I heard one person wasn’t enough and you were looking for someone else. Sounds like you’ve gotten overambitious again. It’s your downfall, Gavin. Always flying too close to the sun. 

**Gavin:**  
I’ll fly as close as I bloody well please, try and stop me 

**Gavin:**  
the sun doesn’t scare me 

 **Gavin:**  
it fears me and my Gucci sunglasses  
B) B) B) B) B) 

**Geoff:**  
Just hurry up and finish this bc I’m sick of you borrowing money from me 

 **Gavin:**  
look Geoff  
it was a small loan 

**Geoff:**  
yeah well I’m gonna charge interest 

\---

**Jack: (mature adults)**  
Why did Gav just rush into the penthouse looking all frantic? He ran out again before I could help. 

 **Ryan:**  
Heist planning getting stressful 

**Jack:**  
You guys okay? 

 **Ryan:**  
Yes! Just the usual  
Our plan kinda needs another person, want in? 

**Jack:**  
Sorry, but I’m staying out of things  
Tell Gavin to come by though, I’ll make him dinner

**Ryan:**  
He’s probably too busy, but I’ll ask 

**Jeremy:**  
:( tell him to take a break!

**Ryan:  
** No time 

\---

**Gavin: (team little britain super secret chat no one else allowed)**  
lil j 

**Gavin:**  
lil j lil j are you at the penthouse? 

**Jeremy:**  
Yes, what’s up? You alright?

**Gavin:**    
Geoff’s not answering his phone, if he’s there please tell him to call me back asap 

**Jeremy:**  
He’s here, I’ve let him know!

**Gavin:  
** Thanks lil J 

**Gavin:**  
2 stressed 2 be blessed right now!  

**Jeremy:**  
O_O take care of yourself... 

\---

**Michael: (Team Lads)**  
ahahaha gavin you’re fucking ON we just finished finalising our plan

**Michael:  
** It’s gonna be fucking epic 

 **Michael:**  
Everything’s in place  
I heard you guys were having some trouble  
But we’re ready to go at any moment! now we just get to put some extra touches on… add some PIZZAZZ 

**Gavin:**  
A plague on you and your accursed pizzazz 

**Michael:**  
I take it yours isn’t going very well then? 

**Jeremy:**  
Ryan looked worried before?

**Gavin:  
** No he was worried because he read some article about how they’re changing the recipe of diet coke 

**Michael:**  
Likely fucking story

**Michael:**  
Anyway  
Sounds like you two are having some trouble  
Hopefully everything won’t go HORRIBLY WRONG  
because that would be embarrassing, wouldn’t it?

  **Michael:  
** (attachment) suck-on-that.gif 

**Gavin:**  
disgusting 

**Jeremy:**  
That’s gotta be CGI… I’m pretty sure that’s not biologically possible

**Michael:**  
Jeremy and I have had a blast doing this 

**Michael:**  
And his help and ideas were better than anything you’ve ever come up with, so… I guess next Thursday we’ll see how it all goes down. 

That last message seems a little unnecessarily mean to Jeremy - especially when Gavin never replies to it. But he’s soon distracted by Michael dragging him out for celebratory drinks, and Geoff and Jack come along, claiming they’ve missed doing things as a group. It’s a fun night, and Jeremy has a long talk to Jack about just stupid things - the jobs he used to take before he became immortal, his cats (which he’s brought over to live in his new apartment, now, when he started realising he spent most of his time there and didn’t want to keep leaving them alone overnight), his ideas for heists… it’s the first time they’ve really spent a lot of time together, and he feels much closer to him afterwards, and wonders where this will take them.

\---

Of course, just as soon as he thinks he’s getting somewhere, something _new_ comes along to throw a spanner in the works.

It’s the next day, and Jeremy’s enjoying having a nice rest now that they’ve finally finished planning for the heist - he’s lounging about in the penthouse with Jack and Geoff, watching them play Peggle, when Ryan bursts in and throws himself down on the couch.

“I need a fucking drink,” he announces.

“Damn it, Ryan, you made me miss my shot!” Geoff growls, but Ryan just waves a hand in the air, furiously, and Jeremy realises he’s holding his phone.

“The drama in the group chat is _unbelievable_ ,” he announces.

“Oh God, what’s happening now?” Jack asks, heaving himself up from the couch with a sigh.

“This isn’t gonna end well.”

“What’s not?” Jeremy asks, but his own phone is vibrating furiously, and he picks it up - Michael went out today on his own to set some fires, relieve some stress before the big hit. But he’s sent Jeremy half a dozen messages in the last few seconds alone, and he frowns.

**Michael:**  
oh my fucking god 

**Michael:**  
i’m gonna FUCKING KILL HIM 

**Michael:**  
HE HAS GONE TOO FAR 

“Holy shit,” Geoff breathes - Jeremy looks up, his own eyes are locked on his screen now, and Jack’s got a frown on his face like Jeremy’s never seen before, a worried little crease between his brows. “Ryan, did you know about this?”

“Nope,” Ryan replies. And then, deadpan, “Yikes.”

“Has Michael seen this yet?” Jack demands.

“Um, yeah,” Jeremy cuts in. “What’s going on, what’s happened?”

“Look at what Gavin just sent us,” Geoff says. He thrusts his phone under Jeremy’s nose, and Jeremy blinks, taking it. It takes him a moment to scroll past Geoff and Jack and Ryan’s shocked replies - variations of “what the fuck are you doing” and “Jesus Christ, Gavin” and a bunch of other things - a name that Jeremy’s never heard before popping up again and again - and pauses at the picture Gavin’s just posted.

**Gavin:  
** Guess I found that third person to help with my heist! 

It looks innocent enough - a selfie taken at, what Jeremy realises now, is the long bridge that connects Achievement City’s island to the mainland - Gavin with his arm slung around another man, the sun bright in the sky behind them, making it a little hard to see their features as they’re cast into dark silhouette.

Jeremy stares at it for a long moment. He can feel his own phone, in his pocket, buzzing continually with messages from Michael - not to the others, just to him. Gavin’s grinning in the picture. The other man isn’t. Something feels wrong about all this - something heavy about the picture, despite how sunny it is, despite Gavin’s toothy smile - he feels his chest tighten.

Lowering the phone, he looks up at the gents, confused and out of the loop, yet somehow irrevocably certain that whatever this is, it’s not just their usual drama. It is going to change everything.

“Who’s Ray?” he asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates weekly <3
> 
> Check out my tumblr (@whalehuntingboyfriends) for more info on this project and others :')


	2. Chapter 2

**** The video’s from a winter Jeremy remembers from ten or so years ago - a winter colder than any there’d been in a long time. He thinks it’s from up in the mountains surrounding AC, though he’s not sure, and everything’s covered in a thick layer of snow, like they’re in an empty room, against some blank white background, sky and ground blurring into one.

There’s a strong wind blowing, whipping everyone’s hair and clothes around, and when the camera turns to Michael, his cheeks are flushed a vibrant red in the cold. It makes him look even more like a small child. Ten years and his face is exactly the same; his hair’s just shorter, and shoved now under a thick, warm beanie.

“What are we doing, Michael?” It’s Jack’s voice that comes from behind the camera, and Jeremy’s heart catches a little at Michael’s familiar, mischievous grin.

“Flying,” he replies, gleefully.

“But not with a vehicle.”

“No, with these.” Michael reaches out of frame and picks up from the ground an enormous, colourful kite - a hang glider, Jeremy realises, or something similar. He laughs. “God, the wind’s fucking strong. We’re all just gonna smash into the mountain and immediately _die_.”

“Well, that’s the fun of it.”

“Who wins? Least deaths, or fastest time to the bottom?”

“Least deaths,” Geoff pipes up from the side - the camera turns to him. He’s got a fantastically large moustache, twirled at the ends like he’s some sort of circus ringleader (which to be fair, given some of the crew’s behaviour, he _basically_ is). “Oh wait, no, maybe deaths count as penalties?”

“You’re making it complicated.” There’s Ryan, moving up behind him. For a moment, Jeremy barely recognises him. His hair’s much shorter, and his face is painted differently - but those eyes are the same, ancient and dangerous. “No race. I just want to fly around.”

Behind the camera, Jack laughs. He turns away, and trudges around a steep bank of boulders and tough, bristly shrubbery. Beyond that, a smooth ledge protrudes out from the side of the mountain, a convenient natural viewing platform. The forest is spread out beneath them, serene and picturesque. Standing looking out are two men.

“Ready to fly, boys?” Jack asks.

They turn. Jeremy recognises one man from the photograph - _Ray_. But unlike the others - or maybe because Jeremy doesn’t know him so well - he seems younger here. Clean-shaven, with thick, dark wavy hair spilling out from under his hat. A happy smile that breaks out when he notices Jack.

Gavin’s next to him, grinning away too. Pretty as always, even with his cheeks wind-flushed and hair dishevelled - he’s wearing an enormous furry coat, his skinny legs sticking out absurdly from underneath. It makes him look like some sort of peculiar waterbird. He gets cold easily - it must be worse there in the snow. Jeremy’s not sure when he started to know things like that about the others.

“Used to be scared of heights, before I couldn’t die,” Ray comments.

“I think we should all have to jump off with our eyes shut and fly with them closed for the first fifteen minutes,” Gavin declares.

Ray stares at him, unimpressed but fond, an identical look to what Jeremy always sees Michael wear.

“You know we’ve all bet money on you crashing first,” he says. “Suggest shit like that and you just keep making it easier.”

Gavin huffs. It sends a puff of white mist into Ray’s face. He bats it away, laughing, just as Michael bounds in from around the corner and springs at the two of them.

“My boys!” he yells, slinging an arm around each of them. They stumble, and Gavin screeches and clings to him.

“ _Mi_ -chael! You nearly knocked us off the bloody cliff!”

“Oh no! We could’ve died!” Michael ruffles his hair furiously before turning to Ray and exchanging a grin with him. Jeremy pauses, a funny feeling in his stomach.

Michael gives him these strange, intense looks now and then - deeply caring and intimate. And Jeremy’s seen how he looks at Gavin - when they’re not fighting, at least - and even the gents. He loves them, in their own weird immortal way. It’s impossible not to see that.

But how he and _Ray_ look at each other… even in this video, it’s clear there’s something different about it. Something far deeper. It’s like how Jack and Geoff look at each other. It has centuries behind it. It’s impossible to match.

The video skips. The next shot is taken from the air - Jack laughing and whooping and yelling,a dizzying swirl of snow and sky and cloud around him, wind rocketing in the background. As he steadies out, the image focuses on the others, flying and swooping in the strong winds, their colourful kites like tropical birds, out of place in this winter. It looks like so much fun - so _free_ \- that Jeremy’s stomach lurches a little with how much he wants to soar like that too. But he can’t help focusing on Michael and Ray’s kites, looping around each other teasingly, side by side, _together_.

Jack, beside him on the couch, reaches out and pauses the video before flipping the laptop shut.

“So that’s Ray,” he says, and Jeremy turns to him, slowly.

“He used to be part of the crew,” he ventures. “He’s immortal, too.”

Jack nods. Then sighs, reaching up and rubbing his hands over his face.

“What happened?” Jeremy asks. After all, Ray can’t have _died_. Besides, he’s back now, and helping Gavin. But he’s literally never heard the others so much as mention his name before, and they’ve told him a bunch of stories stretching way back.

“We don’t actually know,” Ryan speaks up. He’s leaning against the wall on the other side of the room, a drink in hand. Somewhere else in the penthouse, Jeremy can hear Geoff yelling, distantly. He went off to call Gavin straight away and seems to be continuously shrieking some variation of “What the fuck are you doing?”

“All we know is that he left eight years ago,” Ryan continues, ominously. “After some sort of fight that Michael won’t talk about, and that it’s the most _extreme drama_ that’s ever happened in the group.”

For some reason, calling it ‘drama’ takes the weight out of it. Jeremy’s shoulders relax, and the dread falls away. Whatever happened here, how bad can it be? No one can get killed, or even really badly hurt.

“So you never got in touch with him in all this time?” he asks.

Jack shakes his head.

“No,” he says, “We always just figured they’d make up at some point and he’d come back on his own. In the scheme of things, eight years isn’t _that_ long. Once Gavin went off to Europe and we didn’t hear from him for months. Ray cut off all contact so we figured if he wanted to hear from us, he’d get back in touch. I guess Gavin managed to track him down.”

“But none of you _talk_ about him,” Jeremy insists. It seems strange. If it really isn’t too big a deal, he doesn’t know why they should have acted like he never even existed.

“Oh, we used to,” Ryan says. “But Michael freaks out every time you so much as mention his name, so we just stopped. Wasn’t worth the hassle. Fuck, Gavin really took it to a new level here.”

“Wow,” is all Jeremy can say. He feels a bit lost, after all these new revelations. Here he thought he was starting to get to know the crew, only to find there was a whole other _member_ he knew fuck all about. “What… what was he like? Was he…”

He trails off, unsure how to phrase it - _part of the relationship? With all you guys, too?_

Jack seems to understand. His face softens.

“He was as close to us as the rest of us are,” he replies. “But always closest with Michael. They knew each other since before they sold their souls - just like Geoff and I did. I’ve missed him - I’m glad he’s back. But I’m guessing from Michael’s reaction that he had no idea about this - that they still haven’t talked.”

Jeremy bites his lip. Still - despite their initial surprise, Jack and Ryan seem relatively unconcerned. Like this really is just _drama_. He doesn’t know what to think about it - especially when he glances down at his phone again and sees the flurry of texts Michael sent him, cursing Gavin in every way imaginable. It’s been radio silence for the last half hour, though. He wonders where the other man is, what he’s doing.

Geoff enters the room again. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

“Fucking Gavin,” he mutters. 

“I am,” Ryan replies, smoothly, “But he still didn’t tell me anything about _this._ He said he was going interstate today, but I assumed by ‘preparing something for the heist’ he just meant getting supplies. What did he say?”

“That you needed more manpower. That he tracked down Ray. That he was happy to come back.”

“Then why hasn’t he shown up on his own before now?”

“Maybe he was just waiting for one of us to come get him?” Geoff sighs again. “Guess it’ll be good to see him again. I missed that kid.”

“But Michael…”

“Yeah, I know.” Geoff steps closer to Ryan, a look passing between them that Jeremy can’t quite work out. “Gavin’s in a hotel room at the Elliot down in the city. Go see what’s going on. If this gets too out of hand, I’ll deal with it.”

Ryan nods. Geoff squeezes his arm before turning and noticing Jeremy, watching him with wide eyes. He huffs out a laugh.

“Sorry, Lil’ J. This must be fucking confusing.”

“Everything okay?” Jeremy asks, carefully, but Geoff just laughs, more genuinely this time, and nods, crossing the room to clap him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, it’ll all be fine. Michael will be pissed, but he’ll get over it. We always do. He’s probably acting like this is all a very big deal, but honestly, it only is to _him_.”

“But you don’t know what happened between them,” Jeremy can’t help saying - Geoff just shrugs, and turns away.

Jeremy’s phone buzzes again. He snatches it out - Michael’s messaged him again. _‘At the beach.’_ Nothing else - he bites his lip, and glances back at the gents. Jack’s risen too, now, and gone to talk to Geoff. They still seem unconcerned, but Jeremy can’t help but worry. He puts his phone away, and slips out of the room to go meet Michael.

\---

The air outside is thick and heavy with the smell of smoke; it makes Jeremy’s throat tickle and a cough build in his chest. As he drives out towards the coast he hears the wail of sirens, multiple fire-trucks speeding past him. In the distance, thick black smoke is billowing up from the forest at the base of the mountains, bigger than any blaze Jeremy’s seen in a long time. He bites his lip. Michael really must be upset.

It’s a relief to get out to the fresh seaside air. He wanders down the sand dunes, searching for Michael - it’s a windy day, and even though it’s sunny, there aren’t many people around. Finally he spies a lone figure, standing in the shallows, staring out into the sea.

“Michael!” he calls, as he approaches. The figure doesn’t turn, and another pang tugs at Jeremy’s chest as he wades out to meet him. The water is cold and Michael’s standing so far in that his jeans are soaked to the knees. As Jeremy sloshes closer to him, he reaches down and picks up a stone from under the water, drawing his arm back and hurling it as far as it can. It plummets into the ocean some distance away, and Michael lets out a grunt. He’s breathing heavily.

“Michael?” Jeremy comes up by his side, tentatively. Michael doesn’t turn to look at him, but Jeremy can see how his face is twisted, angrily, smudged with soot and ash.

“He’s gone too far,” he says. His voice is hoarse and croaky from breathing in smoke, and Jeremy’s heart sinks at the simmering resentment and under that, _hurt_ in it. “He’s crossed a fucking line.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy says, unsure what else to do - but Michael turns to him, then, eyes blazing, like there’s fires in them, too.

“What the fuck are you sorry for?” he snaps.

Jeremy shifts, awkwardly.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, then shakes himself. “Jack showed me some footage of you guys, back… back before. He told me a bit about who Ray was, said you hadn’t seen him in a while. I don’t know the whole situation, but… this seems like a shitty thing for Gav to do.”

Michael stares at him a moment longer, then turns away with a scoff. 

“That’s putting it mildly,” he says. “Fuck. He _knows_ I don’t want to see him again - that I _never_ want to.”

Jeremy can only stand there awkwardly thinking, _oh my God, what do I do_ , because the sheer _venom_ in Michael’s voice is scary - _what happened?_ He knows the other man isn’t annoyed at _him_ , but he can’t help feeling self-conscious anyway, especially when he reaches out and gently touches Michael’s arm, but gets none of his usual response - Michael just stands there stiffly.

“What happened?” Jeremy prompts. “If you want to talk about it…”

“I don’t,” Michael says, curtly.

He pulls his arm away, and Jeremy can’t help feeling a slight pang of hurt. He’d thought they were close enough by now that Michael would trust him - thought maybe he could help somehow. Now he feels embarrassed, and self-conscious again, overly aware that Michael _hasn’t_ known him as long as the others, has an entire history without him in it… maybe he overestimated his place in the other’s life. Maybe he got too close too quickly - maybe those feelings weren’t reciprocated.

Michael hurls another stone out into the water, aggressively. Then turns and heads back to shore, Jeremy trailing uncertainly after him. He flings himself down onto the hot sand, heedless of how it sticks to his wet clothes, and scowls out at the sea. He still seems worked up, fists clenched and trembling by his sides, filled with a jittering energy that he can’t seem to get out through fire or water or _throwing_ things.

Jeremy doesn't know what to do.

But he’s persistent, if nothing else. Unless Michael tells him to leave, he won’t. He sits down and shifts closer to the other man, their shoulders bumping together, pressing against his side. This time, Michael doesn’t pull away. He sucks in a slow breath and then turns to Jeremy, reaching out and gripping the front of his shirt. He tugs him in slowly, giving him time to pull back - when Jeremy doesn’t, Michael yanks him the final few centimetres and kisses him hard.

It’s different to their usual kisses, even the fierce ones, the ones when they’re running on adrenaline or narrowly escaped death - it feels like Michael has to get something out. It’s furious and rougher than usual, too many teeth, and they’re pressed so close together that Jeremy can barely tell where he ends and Michael begins, the sand under them so hot under the blazing sun it feels like they’re sitting in fire - but he lets Michael take control, just reaches out and puts his hands on the other man’s waist and steadies him until finally he seems to calm and they break apart, Michael dropping his head to Jeremy’s shoulder, hands still fisted in his shirt, breathing heavily.

Jeremy brings a hand up to rest on his back. Michael doesn’t shake him off this time, just presses closer.

“What can I do?” Jeremy asks.

“Help me win this,” Michael replies, voice quiet and wrecked. “I’m determined to fucking kick the shit out of him when it comes to this heist fuckery. He thinks Ray’s some sort of trump card. Well, we’ll show him. We don’t need either of them.”

“Okay,” Jeremy whispers. 

He still isn’t quite sure about all this. He knows nothing about Ray, or what he’s like - the others didn't say much, and the video didn’t reveal anything significant either. He has no clue what he’s getting into, who he’s up against, what even _happened_ …

But he cares about Michael, and he clearly feels like he needs to do this, and Jeremy hates having to take a side, but he doesn’t know what else to do here, what else he _can_ do, now. He doesn’t know enough. But Michael won’t say, and even now he sits here pensively, obviously thinking hard about what’s happened - but he’s still leaning against Jeremy’s side, a warm and familiar weight, and all Jeremy can do for now is support him.

\---

The problem is, he loves Gavin too.

And so he’s not about to just let this go, to just be some sort of pawn and sit back and watch this fall apart even more. This whole time, it’s felt uncomfortable being caught between the other two men - but he wants to get to the bottom of this.

So he makes his way to the Elliot, where Geoff said Gavin was.

Jeremy knows immediately what room he’s in - the same one he always picks, on the corner of the building with a view that spans from the ocean to the mountains, the penthouse directly across from it. They’ve been here before, spent the _night_ here before. Fuck, he thinks, as he remembers heading up this very elevator with both Michael and Gavin laughing alongside him, and the room with its enormous glass windows - staring out over the city, _their_ city, with drinks in hand and chuckling. How Gavin looked wandering around just in his boxers and the free hotel room slippers, and Michael laughing at him and trying to dare him to go down and swim in the hotel pool.

He shakes the memories off, heading straight to the familiar door and knocking.

He expected Ryan to already be here, considering it’s been a few hours since Geoff told him where to go. But there’s no sign of him, and when Gavin opens the door, he looks surprised, his eyes going huge when he notices who it is.

“Jeremy?” he asks. “What are you doing here?”

Something seems off about him. It takes Jeremy a moment to realise it’s because he’s got none of his usual makeup on; no foundation, no carefully done eyebrows, no gel swept up in his hair. He looks fashionable either way, somehow, with his glasses hooked in the v-neck of his shirt, and gold glinting at his throat and the lobes of his ears as always. But with nothing covering the shadows under his eyes, he looks inevitably more tired. More raw and real. Jeremy’s not sure what to think, why something just seems so _strange_ about this entire situation.

“I know what’s going on,” he says, waving his phone - Gavin’s eyes flicker to it, and he pulls a face as he seems to remember his rather smug message to the group chat. “You’ve created a bit of a situation. Is Ryan here?”

“No,” Gavin replies. “I suppose he’s on his way, then? Come in,” he adds, after a slightly awkward pause. “There’s someone you gotta meet, I guess.”

He opens the door wider, and Jeremy steps into the familiar room - all white, lush carpet, and natural light, and modern minimalist furniture.

“Ray?” he ventures - the name feels odd and unfamiliar on his tongue.

Gavin smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah! Ray!” he calls out, brightly.

Ray emerges from the kitchenette, hands shoved in his pockets, slouching a little. After the photo and the video, it’s strange to see him in person. He’s shorter than Jeremy expected, and dressed far more casually than any of the others usually are, in a faded old hoodie and beanie.  Still - something about him reminds Jeremy of an untamed wolf; dark eyes staring intently at him, distrustful and brooding. Something else seems odd about him. Something unsettling, like the vibe Ryan gives off - a clear killer, someone ancient and untouchable. But out of place, not fitting into this city like the rest of them do, after they carved out a place for themselves over years and years.

Gavin doesn’t seem to know how to act around him.

His usual confidence seems withheld a little, and he’s lingering closer to Jeremy than the other man. It’s weird, considering he was the one who brought him here.

“Ray, this is Jeremy, who I told you about,” he announces. “Jeremy, this is Ray. He used to be one of the crew, but he’s been away for some time now.”

“Sup,” Ray says, with a nod.

“Hey,” Jeremy replies, uncertainly.

There follows the most uncomfortable handshake of his life; Ray’s grip is loose and it last just a few seconds too long, and when they pull apart Jeremy feels so awkward that he sort of wants to float away and live on the moon forever. He can’t help wondering exactly what Gavin told this guy about him. Ray’s staring unabashedly, and Jeremy feels rather self-conscious. He’s still sandy and windswept from the beach.

“Ray’s gonna help me out with my heist,” Gavin continues, glancing between the two of them. “Because we need another person to make it work.”

“Right,” Jeremy says, and abruptly recalls why he came here. “And is that the only reason you brought him in?”

It comes out a bit accusing. Something flickers across Gavin’s face. But Jeremy came here for a reason, and he steps towards him.

“Can I talk to you outside?” he asks, voice low and firm. “Alone?”

“Uh,” Gavin replies, his usual eloquence fleeing him for a moment. “No.”

Jeremy raises an eyebrow. The fact that Gavin’s avoiding that conversation means he must be very aware of Jeremy’s problem here, of how all this is affecting Michael. It only further _proves_ this was deliberate, and Jeremy wonders what’s going on - feels a flicker of annoyance.

“I think we should,” he insists.

Once he might’ve been too shy to touch Gavin, but he knows him well enough now, not to mention he’s pissed off enough not to take no for an answer. He grabs Gavin’s wrist, ignoring his annoyed squawk, and starts to tug him towards the door when there’s a sudden loud knock.

They all freeze - even Ray, who’s got one eyebrow raised and his arms folded now, silently watching. He looks a bit lost - like he himself isn’t even sure what he’s doing here, and Jeremy has the sudden weird image in his head of him and Gavin just sitting here in awkward silence before he arrived. He wonders if Gavin knows what happened with Ray and Michael. After all, the gents don’t.

He still has no idea what to think of this - especially since Gavin’s not smug or gloating like he’d expected when he arrived.

“Should we get that?” Ray asks, drily, after a long silence passes and no one moves.

Gavin shakes Jeremy off and goes to open the door. It’s Ryan standing there, his eyebrows raised. He hasn’t got his face paint or mask on, but somehow he still looks like the Vagabond - in his heavy leather jacket. Something in his bearing, dark and commanding - the sort of man who’ll take what he wants.

“Gavin,” he says. “Geoff said you’d be here.”

“Seems like everyone’s coming to visit!” Gavin cries, a slightly annoyed note in his voice now. “Who else is on the bloody way? Geoff? _Michael_?”

Jeremy catches the way Ray stiffens, minutely, at the mention of the other man. Surely Gavin must’ve told him what was going on here - who this heist was up against?

Ryan puts a hand on Gavin’s shoulder and nudges him aside, entering the room. His eyes fall on Jeremy, and for a moment he actually looks _surprised_ , clearly not having expected him to be here. But before long, he’s focused entirely on Ray.

“Ray,” he says, and nods pleasantly.

“Ryan,” Ray replies, glancing up at him warily, but straightening up a little.

“Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been travelling,” Ray replies.

“You didn’t say goodbye before you left.”

“Yeah, well. Most of the time we don’t.”

That’s true, Jeremy knows. Once Geoff just up and left to Canada for a fishing trip and he didn’t even realise until the other man had been gone two weeks. They don’t always keep track of each other.

“Fair enough,” Ryan says. He tilts his head. “You’ve been well, then?”

“Still alive, aren’t I?” Ray shoots back.

Ryan’s lips twitch with a little flicker of a smile. The next thing Jeremy knows, he’s striding forward and kissing Ray, his hands falling to the other man’s shoulders - it’s a funny sort of kiss, determined and thorough, but Ray presses easily into it, like it’s something they’ve done a hundred times before.

There’s an odd look on Gavin’s face as he watches them. Jeremy can only sort of stand there all _what the fuck, okay._ It still baffles him sometimes, how they can so easily slip in and out of relationships. Like not hearing from your boyfriend for _eight fucking years_ is somehow routine? Then again, maybe he’ll get there too… Maybe in ten, twenty, fifty years he’ll be that comfortable with all of them to do the same.

_All of them_. He’s not sure where that comes from - why, at the back of his head, he wasn’t just thinking of Michael and Gavin, but all the others, too.

Still. It’s strange to see Ryan with someone he’s never seen before - it looks wrong, somehow.

But Ray’s smiling when they pull apart. It’s the first time since Jeremy’s seen him in person, and despite how weirded out he is… it suits him. It looks nice, softer, somehow. 

“You sticking around?” Ryan asks, his voice all low and breathy in a way that makes even Jeremy’s knees weak - in a way he’s heard directed at everyone in the crew so far, in quiet moments, except himself.

“Not sure yet,” Ray replies.

Ryan hums.

“Well, you’re welcome to stay out at my place, if you like,” he says. Then, stepping back a little. “So you’re here to help with the heist?”

Ray shakes himself, glancing over at where Gavin and Jeremy are standing, watching.

“Yep, Gav’s already told me the plan.”

“I see,” Ryan says. He turns to Gavin, who’s still staring at Ray, that odd look on his face. “I think we need to talk for a moment… would you mind?”

Ray shrugs, grabbing a backpack off the nearby couch and heading for the door. Jeremy hesitates, a bit unsure - but Ryan’s waiting expectantly, and he quickly gets the hint that he’s not wanted in here.

Gavin looks worried. His arms are wrapped around himself, although his chin’s lifted defiantly, trying to look as cocky as always - still. Jeremy can tell there’s something wrong here. Ryan beckons him closer with one finger, something stern and almost menacing in it. But Jeremy, curious as he is, can’t linger to see what happens.

He leaves the room, shutting the door quietly behind him, and lets out a long breath.

Ray’s sitting on the floor out in the corridor. It’s a very classy corridor, like the entire hotel - all thick, plush red carpets and fancy wallpaper and fashionably dim lighting - but he’s just plonked himself on the ground, leaning back on the wall, and as Jeremy watches he pulls a packet of tobacco and rolling paper from his backpack and starts rolling his own cigarette right fucking there.

“Uh,” Jeremy says, awkwardly - his voice sounds too loud in the empty hallway - “I think this is a no smoking area.”

Ray glances up at him, face unreadable, before pulling a lighter from his pocket and lighting the cigarette without saying a word, not breaking eye contact the entire time. Jeremy swallows, feeling awkward again, before sitting down next to him.

“Um,” he begins, and then promptly can’t think of a fucking thing to say.

Ray takes a few drags of his cigarette before tilting his head back and watching the smoke billow up towards the ceiling.

“So,” he says - he sounds bored, but he sounded bored before too, so Jeremy’s starting to think that’s just what his _voice_ sounds like - “How long you been with the crew?”

“Like eight months, maybe?” Jeremy replies. He hates that he’s nervous; he shouldn’t be. “I can’t remember… it’s all a bit of a blur.”

Ray huffs.

“Yeah, time gets like that when you’ve been alive for literally centuries. And how long have you been immortal?”

“Not quite a hundred years,” Jeremy says.

Ray nods, and then keeps smoking away, occasionally lifting a hand and picking at the dirt under his nails. Jeremy can only sit there, watching in a slightly awkward silence. He’s used to the smell by now, although he doesn’t smoke himself - most of the crew do, since it has no effect on them, immortal as they are.

In the silence that follows, he realises that he can hear the others’ voices through the door behind them, and can’t help listening in.

“Why are you doing this?” Ryan is demanding. “I mean it, just fucking tell me what happened and avoid all this shit - you know you just made Michael twenty times more pissed at you. No matter who wins this, he’ll still be mad.”

“Serves him the fuck right,” Gavin snaps back - Jeremy’s rarely heard him genuinely angry. It makes him uncomfortable, especially eavesdropping like this.

“You’re only making it worse for yourself!” Ryan continues.

Jeremy hears something made of glass smash inside the room, and jumps a little - Ray’s eyes flicker towards him, but he’s sitting silently, clearly listening too.

“Why is Michael _always_ in the right?” Gavin’s voice rings out, high and angry. “What makes you think _he_ didn’t start all this?”

“Did he?” Ryan challenges.

There’s an angry silence. The tension’s palpable, even from out here.

“What,” Ryan says, after a long pause. “Are you gonna sulk, now?”

“What do you care?” Gavin asks, voice tight.

Another silence, so long that Jeremy has to wonder what he’s missing - if they’re moving around in there, or touching. If Gavin’s walked away. But when Ryan finally speaks again, his voice is quieter - barely audible from out here.

“You know I’m not just taking your side in this because of our arrangement. Because I want to sleep with you - or because I feel sorry for you.”

“It’s more fun with me,” Gavin begins, but Ryan cuts in, something more serious in his tone.

“It’s fun with Michael, too. What’s going on, Gavin? You didn’t just bring Ray back because we needed a third person to help out.”

Ray clears his throat suddenly, loudly enough that Jeremy jumps and looks over at him. He was obviously listening in too, but he’s frowning now, brows furrowed a little.

“So,” he says loudly, “You fucking everybody yet?”

Jeremy splutters, nearly choking on his own spit..

“Excuse me?” he demands.

Ray just shrugs, completely unfazed.  


“That’s what always happens,” he replies. “Bet they jumped at the chance to have someone new in here.”

Jeremy can feel his cheeks heating and knows his face must be bright red. But Ray’s tone isn’t mocking or mean - just matter-of-fact. He has no idea what to think.

“I… I’m dating Michael,” he manages to say - and _that’s_ what makes Ray scoff.

“ _Dating_ ,” he says. “That’s cute.”

Jeremy stares at him, a little hurt by how condescending he sounds - but Ray takes another puff of his cigarette before rolling his head lazily to look at him.

“Gavin said you were on Michael’s side in all this,” he continues. “Bet my arrival came out of nowhere. Did he ever mention me at all?”

“Not once,” Jeremy admits. “Neither did the others.”

“Huh,” Ray says. “Makes sense. I mean, it was a big old shitfest.”

“What happened?” Jeremy asks, but Ray just stares at him before smoking some more, blatantly ignoring the question. Jeremy feels _very_ put out.

“Are you back for good?” he blurts out, unable to help himself.

For a moment, he thinks Ray won’t answer that, either. But then he stubs out his cigarette on the carpet next to him, leaving an ashy black mark, and turns to Jeremy once more.

“How would you feel about that?” he asks back.

Jeremy bites his lip. He doesn’t know.

That’s a lie.

He does know. Part of him’s annoyed, because he… it’s hard to put into words. He supposes he was just starting to fit in, and suddenly the original sixth member is back. It makes him feel like he might not be needed, like he might get pushed aside again. Especially since, based on everything he’s seen so far, he’s pretty sure Ray is Michael’s ex.

Maybe it’s irrational, or unreasonable, or petty. But he’s irritated by all this, and he wishes all this shit hadn’t started. He wishes Ray wasn’t here. Especially because it’s upsetting Michael so much, but for selfish reasons, too. He doesn’t want to be replaced, or pushed aside, or even just left out of the loop.

Gritting his teeth, he looks away - Ray laughs again, and Jeremy almost wants to hit him.

“Shit’s gonna kick off once Michael realises I’m here,” he says, and Jeremy glares over at him.

“Then why’d you come back?” he snaps.

Ray stops laughing, and looks away. He’s the one who seems uncomfortable now. Before he can answer, the hotel room door slams open, and Gavin marches out. He looks annoyed, and barely glances at them before striding off down the corridor without saying anything. Jeremy scrambles to his feet just as Ryan appears in the doorway.

“Let him go,” he says, when Jeremy falters awkwardly towards following Gavin out. “He’ll be back later on to finalise our plans. He just needs some air.”

Ray raises his eyebrows, staring up at Ryan from the floor.

“You know he’s upset about something with Michael,” he says.

“I know,” Ryan replies, and runs a hand through his hair. “It’s only gonna get worse with you here, now. What did he say to you, to get you to come back?”

Ray glances pointedly at Jeremy, and Ryan’s gaze turns to him, too.

_Outsider_ , he thinks, and feels another heaviness in his chest. He forces a smile.

“I’ll get going,” he says. “Won’t listen in on your secret plans and all that. See you later.”

He turns to leave, but Ryan catches his arm. He looks almost sorry, like he knows Jeremy doesn’t like all this.

“Hey,” he says, voice oddly gentle. He presses Jeremy’s wrist. “Why don’t you go back to the penthouse? I’m sure Geoff and Jack would appreciate having someone around who isn’t tangled up in all this.”

“Unfortunately, I think I am,” Jeremy mutters. “Michael might want me around.”

_I should hope so,_ he adds, mentally, considering how they were together. Or at least, he thought they were - but he remembers how Ray snickered at _dating_ , and suddenly isn’t quite as sure.

But he walks off, leaving the others behind - feeling terribly sorry for _himself_ , and everyone else wrapped up in this, too.

\---

**Gavin: (team little britain super secret chat no one else allowed)  
** Hey Jeremy

 **Jeremy:  
** Gav! What’s up? You feeling better now?  
  
**Gavin:  
** Yes I am tip top once more, sorry I stormed out of there earlier. Hope it wasn’t too awkward with just you and Ray and Ryan

**Jeremy:  
** I left soon after, it’s fine. Back at the penthouse now.

**Gavin:  
** Nice nice

**Gavin:  
** Kinda have a question for you

**Jeremy:  
** Look, for the last time, I’m not telling you our secret heist plans!

**Gavin:  
** No, it’s not that. I’m just wondering

**Gavin:  
** Has Michael ever killed you?

**Jeremy:  
** Umm

**Jeremy:  
** You mean like deliberately murdered me? Not outside of the games that we play where we all kill each other. Sometimes accidentally if we get a bit too excited blowing stuff up or if we both crash a plane or something. But not like, ‘got pissed off and murdered you’

**Jeremy:**  
I guess because I’ve never really pissed him off?

**Gavin:  
** Not even as a joke or anything?

**Jeremy:  
** No… but I’ve never killed any of you guys out of anger or as a joke or anything, idk

 **Gavin:  
** Why’s that?  
  
**Jeremy:  
** I don’t know… I guess I just don’t like it? I mean, I see the rest of you doing it to each other all the time, but it just feels weird to me, right now at least. It’s fine in the middle of a game. But I wouldn’t like to kill someone just because I was mad at them.

 **Gavin:  
** How come?  
  
**Jeremy:  
** I don’t like to hurt people I care about. Even when I’m pissed. Even if it doesn’t matter since we come back anyway. Maybe that’s silly, I dunno.

 **Gavin:  
** it’s not silly

 **Gavin:  
** That’s really sweet actually. I guess most of us in the crew feel differently because we’ve already died so many times that it doesn’t matter anymore

**Gavin:  
** Ever notice that Jack and Geoff never kill each other, except in our stupid games?

**Jeremy:  
** Not until you pointed it out, but I figured it was just because they never really fight?

 **Gavin:  
** They argue like a married couple… I guess because they are.

 **Gavin:  
** But yeah  
That’s interesting to hear, thanks for explaining to me.

**Jeremy:**  
Sure thing :)

**Jeremy:  
** What’s going on? Everything okay?

**Gavin:  
** Everything’s always okay eventually… that’s the weird thing about living forever. You start seeing cycles. There’s always time for things to change. But it’s weird sometimes how much they also stay the same.

**Jeremy:  
** …

**Gavin:  
** I’ve been drinking, ignore me

**Gavin:  
** we’ll talk after all this is over <3

**Jeremy:  
** Okay… take care 

**Jeremy:  
** <3

\---

**Geoff: (private)  
** JEREMY oh my god what’s going on

 **Jeremy:**  
??? what’s happening?

**Geoff:  
** Just saw Michael walk through the fucking penthouse carrying like fifteen rocket launchers

**Geoff:  
** I’m talking a fucking BOUQUET of rocket launchers and he did NOT LOOK HAPPY

**Geoff:**  
Where are you? what’s going on? you two better not be about to blow up my city!!

**Jeremy:  
** I’m in the city. That has nothing to do with our heist - I’m guessing he’s just planning on having some fun with them?

**Geoff:  
** fun

**Geoff:  
** FUN

**Geoff:  
** oh my god, he just went into his room and came back with a bunch of sticky bombs

**Geoff:  
** also he looks so pissed, did something happen?

**Jeremy:  
** He was ranting about Gavin earlier, as usual, but Gav just posted pics in the group chat of some weird robot tiger that I assume is part of his heist? didn’t mention Ray or anything, but I guess it just annoyed Michael again

**Jeremy:  
** He hasn’t said anything to me so I think he’s just blowing off steam

**Geoff:  
** Can you meet up with him and keep an eye on him? If you guys are about to destroy the city with your ridiculous heists then I’d like you to at least run your plans by me first.

**Jeremy:  
** He didn’t tell me where he was going so I think he might want to be alone.

**Geoff:  
** You could be right…

**Geoff:  
** he just came out with a minigun IM OUT

\---

**Jeremy: (short temper)  
** Hey, where are you?

 **Jeremy:  
** Michael?

**Jeremy:  
** I get it if you want to be alone, just let me know where you are so I can stop Geoff freaking out about what you might be blowing up.

**Michael:  
** soz, was on fire

**Michael:  
** geoff can stop getting his fucking panties in a twist, i’m out on the other side of the mountains. not destroying any of his shit

 **Jeremy:  
** Okay, I’ll let him know  
Are you coming back to the apartment tonight?

**Michael:  
** maybe

**Michael:  
** wanna see what gavin sent me in a private message

**Jeremy:  
** ??

 **Michael:  
** (attachment) IMG_3090.jpg  
(attachment) IMG_3091.jpg  
(attachment) IMG_3092.jpg

**Jeremy:  
** Shit…

 **Michael:  
** Yep  
Just rubbing it in that he’s having a grand old time over there with Ray  
JUST HANGING OUT IN A HOT TUB 

**Michael:  
** it’s not even anything to do with their heist, just fucking rubbing it in

**Michael:  
** in a FUCKING HOT TUB

**Jeremy:  
** To be fair, Gavin does really like hot tubs

**Jeremy:  
** Like, an obsessive amount

**Michael:  
** I’m gonna send him one of those horrifying articles about people whose intestines get sucked out their asshole from the suction on those things

**Jeremy:  
** I don’t want to know…

 **Jeremy:  
** So will I see you tonight?  
  
**Michael:  
** Not sure, i’ll see where this fire takes me

**Jeremy:  
** Okay…

\---

**Jack: (private)  
** Hey Jeremy! Are you with Michael at the moment?

**Jeremy:  
** Nope, he’s gone out on his own again! just chilling downstairs in my apartment

**Jack:  
** Oh ok

**Jack:  
** Want to come out to dinner with us?

**Jeremy:  
** Who’s us?

**Jack:  
** Me and Geoff! We’re about to go out.

**Jeremy:  
** Oh… you want me to come along?

**Jack:  
** That’s what I just said, isn’t it?

**Jeremy:  
** Oh

**Jeremy:  
** Okay!

**Jeremy:  
** I’ll be up in fifteen minutes

**Jack:  
** :) :)

\---

**Geoff: (mature adults)  
** tonight was fun

**Jeremy:  
** Definitely! Thanks for having me along :)

**Jack:  
** Thanks for coming! If Michael can spare you, you should definitely come along with us tomorrow if you haven’t been over the other side of the island

**Jeremy:**  
We’ve finished with planning so I should be free! Sounds like fun!

**Ryan:  
** Seems like you guys are having a good time over there…

**Geoff:**  
come back to the penthouse asshole, we miss you  <3

**Ryan:  
** In a couple weeks this’ll all be over!

**Jack:  
** Will it?

**Jack:  
** We still don’t know what Ray’s planning on doing. He hasn’t spoken to us since getting back here.

**Ryan:  
** He’s waiting until after the heist… doesn’t want to drag anyone else into this mess with Michael.

**Geoff:  
** Remarkably considerate of him.

\---

It’s a messy situation, overall. Jeremy still has very little idea what’s going on. Since Ray’s sudden return, it’s strange the way that - like Gavin said - things changed, yet somehow stayed the same. Ray and Gavin have both moved out to Ryan’s manor, and haven’t been to the penthouse since. They’re probably busy with heist preparations, but it means everyone else is left in a strange limbo where they’re not quite sure what’s going on. Or especially what Ray’s thinking.

All they know is that Michael is furious, and the stakes have been raised considerably.

Jeremy finds himself once again out of the loop and unsure. Because he knows nothing about Ray, or what his relationships were with everyone else before all this, he can’t even begin to guess what Jack and Geoff or thinking - or Ryan, living out there with the other man - let alone Gavin, who’s been acting so strangely.

Michael’s been distant lately.

Jeremy had hoped that the other man would open up to him, let him _help_ \- that maybe he could mediate between him and Gavin.

But instead, Michael’s shut away and sulking. He goes out every day just to cause destruction in the forests and fields around AC, and won’t even talk to Jeremy - when Jeremy does venture down to his apartment to find him, he’s always either drunk or sleeping.

He’s concerned, but he feels too unsure of his place in the other man’s life to push. He hates that, too, because he _is_ worried, but he’s just… scared, he supposes.

Still. Even with Michael angry and Gavin busy, he isn’t lonely, because it seems like all the gents have suddenly taken an interest in him.

Jack keeps asking him over when Jeremy’s alone. He takes him out to the houses he’s built, the enormous gardens throughout the city, and asks for his help designing and constructing more. Jeremy realises quickly that he has a knack for it - he loves it, drawing and planning things out with blocks and paper. Helping Jack find plots of land to build more on. Picking out materials.

It’s soothing work, and satisfying to see things being constructed, their plans coming to life in front of them. To build, rather than just destroy.

Jack’s great too. Previously, Jeremy wasn’t quite sure what to think about him, because his personality isn’t quite as front-and-centre as the others’ when they do things in a group - but one-on-one he’s amazing, so warm and open, with an easy laugh. Before long Jeremy feels a warm affection towards him.

They start going out to eat together quite a lot. It’s nice to forget about the upcoming heist for a bit, to take his mind off Michael and focus on being wanted by someone else instead. Eventually Jeremy gathers enough courage to ask Jack to his apartment a few times - just to play video games or hang out, but Jack immediately falls in love with his three cats, and after that he’s there constantly.

They go out with Geoff sometimes, too - the three of them out on fishing trips, or vineyards, or fancy restaurants, even pulling off their own little robbery or intimidation jobs around the city. It’d be easy to feel like a third wheel, but somehow Jeremy doesn’t. Maybe because he’s new, so they have someone who hasn’t heard all their stories yet, or because he has new things to tell them, too - but they always have a great time when they go out together, never a dull moment.

Geoff’s constantly impressed by his past theft jobs. He comes up with lists and lists of activities he wants Jeremy to try out, unable to believe he’s never done them before. Skydiving, fly fishing, visiting a dozen countries Jeremy’s barely heard of before. 

Geoff’s not intimidating at all, he realises now. But Jeremy’s flustered in a different way these days - by the lazy grins Geoff casts his way, as fond as the ones he shoots Michael or Gavin. By how easily the other man rests a warm hand on his shoulder or his back, or how he slumps next to him on the couch, close enough that their sides press together.

A week before the day of the heists, Ryan finally returns to the penthouse. It feels like it’s been forever since Jeremy saw him back at the hotel room, although it’s barely been a week.

“Finally got the night off,” he announces, when he strides into the room where the others are - there’s black smudged around his eyes, but no other paint, and with his hair hanging loose around his face and his sleeves rolled up and shirt stained with grease and what looks like bike oil, he looks even more like some sort of ferocious warlord. “Let’s go out somewhere!”

“ _Karaoke!”_ Geoff shrieks immediately, and Ryan turns and makes like he’s gonna walk out again - “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Bevs?”

“Is it _bevs_ if Gavin isn’t here?” Jack laughs.

“Let’s go out on your new yacht,” Ryan announces - Geoff’s sprung up off the couch and is clinging to his arm, but Ryan just laughs and grabs his hand instead. Jack’s already nodding in agreement. They get up and start to leave the room - Jeremy sitting on the couch, watching them, uncertain - when Ryan looks over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow.

“Well? Are you coming?” he asks, and Jeremy nods, heart pounding, and scrambles after them.

That’s a good night.

Once they’re out there, he doesn’t feel like the new guy. He feels like he fits in with the rest of them just as much, as soon as he gets over his shyness (with the help of a few drinks) and finds himself letting loose and laughing and joking just as much as the rest of them.

Geoff’s yacht is disgustingly luxurious, and is basically just like an expensive, floating apartment, but it’s nice to get out into the ocean away from the island and then look back at the twinkling lights of Achievement City in the distance, the dark shapes of the mountains looming jagged behind it against the starry sky - it’s a pleasantly warm night, and the sea breeze is refreshing.

They eat sitting cross-legged on a low table around the deck, the boat’s lights creating a pleasant glow around them, like their own bright, private island out on the water. They’re all drinking probably too much, and laughing at things that wouldn’t be funny to anyone who wasn’t there at the time - but there’s a comfortable _ease_ between all of them.

The others look good, Jeremy can’t help noticing - Ryan with his bright blue eyes, sitting next to him, so close their arms occasionally bump if they both reach for something at the same time, his hair windswept, his lips stained dark with wine. And across from them, Jack and Geoff. Outside the city they don’t look so tired. Jack leans against Geoff’s side now and then, exchanging small, private smiles with him, but it doesn’t feel like a secret, something to keep the rest of them out - just something soft and intimate.

Still. Something about it still doesn’t quite feel right, and it doesn’t take long for Jeremy to realise he wishes Michael and Gavin were here as well. But he doesn’t dwell on it. For now, he lets himself relish just _being_ here, the others around him, the warm summer air like a light blanket wrapped around all of them.

Later that evening, Jack and Geoff decide to stay back and sleep on the yacht, so Ryan offers Jeremy a ride home.

“Are you sure?” Jeremy can’t help asking, staring at Ryan’s beast of a motorcycle - it’s his pride and joy, and he knows Ryan’s protective of it.

Ryan snorts.

“‘course I’m sure. I cart Gavin around on this thing, don’t I? Besides, you know your way around bikes.”

Jeremy grins, and gets on. They speed off, and he immediately clings to Ryan’s waist - the other man drives _fast_ , and he can _feel_ how powerful the bike’s engine is as it thrums to life under him. But Ryan has decades of experience, and it’s clear he’s in control, so before long Jeremy relaxes and holds his waist in a bit less of a death grip. It’s strange _touching_ him so much - his chest against Ryan’s back, the pulsing vibrations of the motor sending little shocks all through him, seeming to pull them into a single humming creature until he falls into a sort of lull, the city streets flying past around them, unsure where he ends and Ryan - and the machine - begin.

When they arrive back at the penthouse, he’s sorry to pull away. It might be summer, but even the night air feels cold when Ryan’s warm body was against his just moments before.

“Thanks,” he says, as he clambers off. It feels like stirring from a dream.

Ryan shrugs, running a hand through his mussed hair.

“Glad to,” he replies. There’s a funny silence, neither leaving yet, just standing and looking at each other. Jeremy feels like he wants to say something - wants to say _everything_ \- but he can’t bring himself to start. But it builds up, and finally he sighs, needing to vent to _someone_.

“It’s been weird lately,” he admits. “The crew split like this.”

Ryan stares at him. For a moment, Jeremy thinks he won’t answer - but then he nods.

“Fights happen all the time,” he says. “People come, and go, and come _back_. But Ray was… different.”

“You still don’t know what happened?” Jeremy asks.

Ryan shakes his head.

“No, but we all figured he’d return one day. What’s eight years? What’s _ten_ years? Twenty? We missed him, yes, but it didn’t feel as long to us as it might seem to you. It’s all relative - the older you get, the shorter a year seems.” His lips twitch. “You’re very young still, compared to some of us.”

"That makes sense,” Jeremy murmurs. “But how do _you_ feel about it? And Ray, Gavin… what’s been going on over at your place?”

Ryan sits down on the low wall surrounding the steps leading into the apartment building. Jeremy sits next to him, anticipating a story - glad Ryan’s taking the time to answer, not just brushing it off as none of Jeremy’s business. Ryan’s got that thoughtful look again, toying with his leather gloves, pulling each finger free then putting them on again.

“I’m staying out of what doesn’t involve me,” he says. “I don’t know what happened, but I know if Ray _wants_ me to know, he’ll tell me. I’m enjoying that he’s back and we’re working together again. He seems glad I’m just treating him normally. That’s the best way for me to watch, and gather information, and work things out.”

“And the others?” Jeremy asks, tentatively.

Ryan hums.

“Gavin’s been strange lately. I’m sure we’ve all noticed that. He’s all worked up about something to do with Michael. He brought Ray back, but now he seems unsure about where they stand with each other. It bothered him when Ray disappeared - he complained the most about it, alongside Geoff of course. But now he’s… guarded. Acting like he just wants to have fun and show up Michael - spending all this time with Ray, but not getting _close_ , not like they used to be.”

“Yeah, I noticed that,” Jeremy says, and Ryan nods approvingly.

“Gavin can be weird about things sometimes,” he says, shrugging. “He was the youngest, before you came along, but had already accumulated the most deaths. Take that how you will.”

“And what’s Ray think of all this?”

“Ah,” Ryan says, and lets out a huff of breath. “Now that’s the tricky part. Ray’s always been quiet, more reserved - that’s just how it is with him. But he’s said very little about why he’s here now. He must have thought it was time to come back, because God knows he has no trouble saying no to Gavin if he doesn’t want to do something. But he won’t talk about Michael, and he’s made no effort to reach out to Jack and Geoff. He’s got back to normal with me, but only because I made the first move. Hasn’t done a thing with Gavin yet, although he must’ve noticed how weirdly he’s acting.”

Jeremy takes all this in. Things are no clearer afterwards.

“This is all very complicated!” he says finally, miserably.

Ryan laughs again.

“It is,” he agrees. “Too much drama! But things always work out in the end somehow. Time moves everything along - sometimes slow, sometimes fast. We shouldn’t be in a hurry.”

It’s strangely similar to what Gavin said to him - but somehow even more reassuring as he realises he _has_ been in a rush - constantly feeling like he has to play catch-up to get to know the others well enough, to break into the group, the _relationship_. But he doesn’t have to. No one’s going anywhere.

Or at least, he thought they weren’t. He remembers what Ryan said - _Ray was different_. Some things, it seems, are big enough to have a permanent impact.

He looks over at Ryan again, to find the other man watching him with a little smile. Somehow his old eyes aren’t quite as intimidating, Jeremy thinks - and Ryan was different, tonight. Less scary. More _human_. Jeremy can’t help wondering more about his life before the crew, how old he _really_ is, the things he might’ve seen - how all that led him here, to the rest of them, men that he _loves_. He wants to find out. He thinks, in time, he will.

“Anyway,” Ryan says finally. “It’s getting late, and we need to be well-rested for the heists soon.”

“Oh,” Jeremy says. “Yes.”

He’s disappointed to leave - part of him wants to stay, and talk more, but Ryan’s right. It’s late, and they’ve already spent the whole evening together. He gets up only to find Ryan standing very close, suddenly. Their eyes meet and for a moment Jeremy can’t breathe. He barely realises what’s happening as Ryan leans in close - he smells like a mix of rough leather and expensive aftershave and ocean salt. For a hysterical moment, Jeremy’s quite certain Ryan’s going to kiss him.

He does. On the fucking _cheek_ , a brief, almost formal brush of lips against Jeremy’s skin before he steps back and smiles.

“Goodnight, then,” he says, and promptly gets onto his bike and drives off.

Jeremy stares after him, mouth hanging open a little. He reaches up and touches his cheek - his heart’s pounding, and he’s not sure if he’s disappointed or excited by what just happened. Still - he can’t help his small smile as he watches Ryan go. As much as things with Michael and Gavin have slowed down, as much as Ray has thrown a spanner in the works - other things are happening, things that make him feel he has a place here, with _all_ of them.

\---

**Jeremy: (short temper)**  
Four days to go!!

**Jeremy:  
** Are you excited?

 **Michael:  
** I’m excited to fucking kick Gavin’s ass

**Jeremy:**  
That’s the spirit. Drinks tonight while we run over the details again?

**Michael:  
** You know what  
Sure

**Jeremy:  
** :) :)

\---

**Michael:  
** CHANGE OF FUCKING PLANS come down to my apartment now

**Jeremy:**  
What’s going on?

**Michael:  
** we’re gonna destroy him

**Jeremy:  
** O_O um…

**Jeremy:  
** I’m coming down there, one second

\---

Jeremy’s uncertain what to expect as he hesitantly makes his way downstairs to Michael’s flat. He’d thought things were going better lately - Michael had stopped being quite so furious, stopped going out to vent his anger through fire and bombs, and instead had returned to just running over their plans and ensuring everything was in order for the heist. He’d even gone back to hanging out with Jeremy, playing video games and having dinner together - it’d felt like he was being let back in.

It helps that Gavin’s stopped posting smug photos in the group chat. Actually, the group chat’s been pretty dead lately overall, which is… probably for the best, now Jeremy thinks about it.

He pauses outside the door and checks his phone before going in, only to wince. Ah, yes. There it is.

Gavin’s posted another photo of himself and Ray, this time a selfie, his own arm slung around Ray’s shoulders, a shit-eating grin on his face. In the background Jeremy can see a truly awful monstrosity of modern architecture - an ugly mansion that the others told him was built last year by one of the corrupt millionaires who live on the island, who cut down a bunch of the forest to do it and kicked some other residents out of the area. Geoff’s been considering a hit on the place for a while - there’s plenty of gold and riches in there. It’s clear that this is the spot Gavin’s hitting - he probably thinks that with only four days to spare, there’s nothing they can do to stop him in this limited time frame.

The photo’s pretty fucking innocent compared to some of the ones Michael’s shown Jeremy before, though. He knocks and enters.

“Michael?” he calls out, only to pause and wince immediately.

Michael’s clearly flown into a Hulk-like rage. His living room is trashed - glasses smattered on the floor, a massive dent in the wall where it looks like he threw a chair, more furniture smashed and broken. The place smells strongly of alcohol, but Michael himself only seems a _little_ drunk - thank God - he’s bent over on the other side of the room, digging around in a trunk, and when he rises and turns around Jeremy nearly screams.

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ, what’s that on your face?”

It’s the most horrifying mask he’s ever seen, all enormous bared teeth, drooping melted flesh, and blind white eyes - he can’t tell if it’s a dragon, or a bug, or some sort of horrific deep-sea _fish_ , but it’s the stuff of nightmares, whatever it is.

“Have you never heard of the Jabberwock?” Michael demands, voice muffled behind the layers of rubber.

“The fucking _what_?”

“Like, Alice in Wonderland. The Jabberwock.”

“Is… isn’t it called the Jabberwocky?” Jeremy asks weakly. He is not exactly an expert, and kind of has _no fucking idea_ what’s going on here.

“No, the poem’s called Jabberwocky. The creature’s called the Jabberwock.”

“Where did you even _get that_? And more importantly, what are you doing with it?”

“Ebay,” Michael answers easily, continuing to rummage around before finally crying, “Ah ha!” and emerging again-

Holding a fucking _flamethrower,_ and Jeremy looks around and notices a chainsaw on the floor next to him. He knows Michael, has laughed at and with him a hundred times by now, but even his blood runs cold at this nightmarish sight.

“Michael,” he says quietly, “What in the _world_ is going on? You look like you’re about to go on some sort of Halloween murder rampage!”

“I’m not Ryan,” Michael scoffs. “I told you. We’re gonna destroy Gavin.”   


“ Uhh-”  


“His _heist plans_ ,” Michael says, which makes Jeremy’s shoulders relax a little, because _look_ , given the circumstances and the fucking equipment laid out in front of him, who can blame him if he thought Michael was gonna attempt to kill Gavin permanently by chopping him into little bits and setting them on fire? “I followed him around the other day and there’s a warehouse where he’s keeping all his preparations and shit. We’re gonna destroy them all. With these.”

He throws the chainsaw at Jeremy’s feet. He jumps back a bit and it lands with a _crash_ on the floor.

“But the geese,” is all he can manage, helplessly. “You can’t kill the geese!”

“Relax, we’ll just let them loose. He has a ton of other shit stored in there - like he’s preparing a fucking parade. It’s ridiculous.” Michael straightens up and throws Jeremy another mask - a cat mask, thank God, he’s not about to go out there with fucking E.T.’s face plastered over his - and starts to leave the room.

“Michael, wait,” Jeremy says, catching his arm. “What are you _doing_? Our heist’s in four days… it’s cheating to sabotage him.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the heist competition,” Michael snaps, though he doesn’t shake Jeremy off. “We’ve gone beyond that, Jeremy. He took things too far. It’s not in the rules - why the fuck _shouldn’t_ I mess with him? The whole reason he went out and brought fucking Ray back here was to mess with _me._ All’s fair in love and war.”

Jeremy presses his lips together. But Michael’s staring at him - he can only barely see the other man’s eyes through the slits in the horrible mask - and he’s trembling, and maybe this picture was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

There’s no way Jeremy can _stop_ him.

“Are you with me, Lil’ J?” Michael asks, quietly. His voice low and earnest and… not _pleading_ , but Jeremy suddenly thinks of who else he could go to for help with this, and comes up with nothing.

He swallows hard, and nods. Michael reaches out and squeezes his arm, the first act of affection he’s shown in some days now, before turning and marching out of the room, Jeremy trailing uncertainly behind him.

\---

Jeremy _definitely_ feels like his whole life is a dream.

This entire night feels like some sort of weird hallucination he might have after getting raging drunk, eating a lot of blue cheese, then playing Five Nights at Freddy’s before going to bed. Jesus Christ, how the fuck did he even _get here?_

All he knows is that he’s standing in the burning, charred remains of the warehouse. All around him fire’s crackling, and the air is filled with the frantic honking of hundreds of geese, all waddling away from the devastation as fast as they’re able. Michael stands amidst the carnage, laughing maniacally and sending bursts of flame into the air every few minutes.

Around them, various prop pieces have been shredded; an animatronic tiger, an enormous hot air balloon shaped like a Ghast from Minecraft, several floats that look like the heads of various past presidents, each with a confetti cannon protruding from their mouths, and a huge banner with the British royal family printed on it and the Fake AH Crew’s faces plastered over theirs. (Jeremy is faintly offended that he’s been stuck over Prince George - Michael, of course, is the crying, red-faced baby Charlotte.)

Yeah. He doesn’t know what the fuck Gavin’s heist is about, either.

Anyway, they’re there - Michael cackling away, Jeremy standing around awkwardly, the room thickening slowly with smoke, the Queen watching disapprovingly while on fire - when naturally, Gavin bursts in, looking furious. 

_Of course,_ thinks Jeremy. _He’d have security cams set up_.

“ _Michael!”_ Gavin shrieks, his voice reaching octaves previously unheard. “What have you _done?”_

“Payback, you bitch!” Michael yells. He seems more drunk now than he was when they started out, fuelled by adrenaline and rage. “Who’s laughing now, huh? Not you, fucker! Your whole heist is _ruined_! How’s that for sabotage?”

Gavin’s pale with fury. Jeremy takes a step back as he begins to advance towards Michael. They seem to have forgotten he’s even there, and like fuck he’s about to step between them. For once, he really does _not_ want to be included - he’s actually almost scared by the raw, simmering anger on both their faces.

“You bloody cheater! This is against the damn rules!”

“There _are_ no rules!” Michael roars. “ _Rules!_ Like you were following the fucking rules when you brought Ray in here? Have you been having _fun_ with him? Sending your smug little photos to me constantly, trying to wind me up - well, not so smug now, are you, _bitch?_ Don’t play with fire, Gavvy!”

Gavin nearly trips over a fleeing goose as he walks right up to Michael, not even flinching when the other man shoots a blast of fire just past his face. He reaches out and snatches the mask from Michael’s head - Michael lets him, and finally they’re face to face, chests heaving, glaring at one another. 

Jeremy can only stare. It’s like something from a nightmare, now - Michael in his dark leather, hair ashy from the smoke, Gavin in his flashy gold as usual - two angry gods lit up in a crimson glow, squaring off, smoke rising around them, surrounded by carnage like a ruined empire.

“You know what, Michael,” Gavin snarls, their faces close in a parody of intimacy. The venom in his voice is frighteningly real. “I _hate_ you.”

Michael laughs at him, as harsh and hysterical as before.

“You always say that,” he says, but Gavin shakes his head.

“I fully mean it this time. I hate you. I hate how you think you’re right all the time. I hate how you flounce around ruining whatever the fuck you want like it’s yours to destroy. I hate you and your stupid face and your stupid heist and I’m gonna destroy _everything_ of yours, you hear me? Your cars and your flat and all your ridiculous leather jackets! You’re a fucking _joke_ , Michael!”

Michael scowls, and clutches the lapels of said jacket in outrage.

“I’m a joke?” he demands. “ _I’m_ a fucking _joke_? Have you fucking seen yourself? Running around acting like you’re some sort of supermodel. Poor, precious little Gavin, everyone’s so _mean_ to him - maybe you fucking _deserve it_. You’re actually the worst, oh my God - you do nothing but overreact and cause drama for the fun of it, but the moment the tables are turned, you can’t handle it! You’re a whiny little baby, you’re _pathetic_ \- you’re just _annoying!”_

Gavin looks comically shocked, taking a step back and clapping a hand to his chest. Jeremy can only stare between the two of them, helplessly - the gents kept telling him these feuds were normal, but they sure as hell don’t sound normal to him.

“I hate you too,” Michael continues, furiously, “And your heist is a mess! _You’re_ a mess! You can make yourself look as pretty as you want but it won’t fix that ugly personality!”

“You drink too much!” Gavin throws back. “And you have anger issues - look at you throwing a tantrum just because Ray’s back!”

The mention of Ray makes Michael’s face go pale with anger.

“You know _nothing_ about what happened between me and Ray,” he spits.

Gavin tosses his head.

“I know _you’re_ the one who can’t stand the heat,” he cries. “A few silly pictures and you’re falling apart! You’ve been a mess all week - I heard about your tantrums, how you destroyed half the forest and set all those fires. _You’re_ the baby, Michael! You’re just a great big bloody whining baby!”

“You always have to be the centre of attention,” Michael snarls. And then, meanly, “Everyone’s sick of it. _All_ of us. Me, Jeremy, even Ryan. We’re sick of your shit. We’re sick of _you_.”

Gavin looks shocked - the silence that follows is so tense that Jeremy can’t help cringing, waiting for something to happen, some blow to fall. Then, slowly, anger settles back over Gavin’s features, and he leans forward and spits in Michael’s face.

Michael reacts immediately, swinging a punch that connects with the side of Gavin’s jaw and knocks him clean to the ground. Jeremy yells in surprise, starting forward - but Gavin, on the ground, grabs Michael’s leg and yanks him down next to him. A horrible brawl follows as the two of them wrestle, punching and kicking wildly - Jeremy inches forward and winces. He can see them pulling each other’s hair, elbowing and biting and shrieking.

 _Oh my God - what do I do?  
  
_ “Guys, stop! _Stop!_ ” he insists, rather uselessly. He runs forward but can’t figure how to get between them - sees the sharp point of Gavin’s elbow smash into Michael’s mouth, leaving his lips and teeth bloody - a moment later Michael grabs Gavin by the hair and slams his face into the ground, making him grunt.

It's messy and violent and they’re both covered in ash and bloody grime in seconds. Before long Michael has Gavin pinned down, straddling his hips and grasping both his wrists tightly - but Gavin scowls up at him, eyes flashing in his dirty face, before twisting and clamping his jaws around Michael’s arm, biting so hard that Michael howls and lets go of him. Gavin tries to twist away but Michael, heavier, is still on top of him. He pauses, panting and glaring up at him.

“Not everything’s about _you_ ,” he hisses, suddenly. “Ray came back for me - _me!_ He doesn’t even want to see you!”

From where he’s standing, Jeremy can’t see Michael’s face. But he sees his shoulders stiffen - sees him stagger to his feet, dragging Gavin up by the collar, before throwing him to the ground, drawing his gun in one swift motion, and shooting him in the head.

“ _Michael!”_ Jeremy yells.

The gunshot echoes through the room and Gavin crumples limply to the floor again. Jeremy’s seen him die a hundred times before, but something about _this_ makes his stomach sink - he finally jerks into action, running to the other man’s side and dropping down next to him. There’s blood spattered over the ground and Gavin’s eyes are staring sightlessly up into the open night sky, the warehouse roof burning and destroyed from the fire. Dead in an instant.

Jeremy drags him up into his arms, cradling him. He’ll be back soon enough, he knows. It’s one of the simpler injuries to come back from, but he can still feel sticky blood smearing over his shirt, and his chest feels tight - he stares up at Michael, who seems to be coming back to himself as he breathing heavily. He meets Jeremy’s eyes - his hand is shaking as he lowers the gun.

“What?” he demands, but there’s a tight, defensive note in his voice. “He was pissing me off. Not the first time I’ve killed him.”

“Still,” Jeremy begins, but can’t find the words to continue. He’s just - shocked, he supposes, by how brutal and _messy_ everything got between them.

Michael looks away. He’s trembling visibly, and Jeremy doesn’t know what to say.

“What’s going on here?” a voice rings out.

They both freeze, turning towards the destroyed warehouse doors. And there is Ray, staring around at the carnage. Jeremy _sees_ Michael’s whole body stiffen again, seeming to curl back into itself - it’s the first time they’ve seen each other, he realises, and they both pause, Ray straightening up too like a startled cat as their eyes meet.

The awkwardness is like a cold fog that descends over the whole room. Michael’s mouth opens, but no sound comes out. After a moment, Ray shakes himself and steps into the room, looking around.

“Holy shit,” he continues. “You destroyed all our heist prep? What the _fuck_ , Michael?”

“Ray,” Michael croaks out. His eyes are huge, like he’s seen a ghost, and Jeremy just wants to know what the _hell_ went on between them for Michael to have this sort of reaction.

Ray looks equally shaken, he’s just controlling it better.

“Where’s Gavin?” he continues, staring around - he finally notices the other man, still slumped lifeless in Jeremy’s arms, and hesitates. “Oh. Fuck.”

“Ray,” Michael begins again. “You…”

He trails off, and Jeremy can see his face twisting as different emotions pull at him, a war waging in his eyes - anger, fear, upset.

Ray finally looks over at him again. He looks awkward too, unsure of himself and vulnerable for the first time - something _torn_ in his eyes as he stares at Michael. Like he doesn’t know how he wants to react. And God, Jeremy just wants _some_ sort of hint what’s going on here - but just like Ryan said, Ray is quiet and guarded and impossible to read.

Jeremy has no idea what to do. He just sits there, clinging onto Gavin - a gunshot to the head heals pretty fast, and he can already see flesh and bone knitting back together.

Suddenly, Ryan’s in the room - then Geoff, and Jack, walking into the funny standoff between the other two men. Jeremy’s not sure how they all got here, or what’s going on. Things seem to be moving so fast.

“Holy shit,” Geoff says, looking around.

“There are fucking geese all over the roads,” Jack adds. “It’s causing havoc and the police are gonna be here in a minute - fuck, is Gavin okay?”

“I mean,” Jeremy pipes up, a bit hysterically, “He’s dead!”

“He’ll be fine,” Michael snaps. He’s still staring at Ray, shoulders hunched up - after a moment, Jack and Geoff look over at him too. Ray drags his gaze away from Michael to stare at them instead, and Jeremy remembers it’s the first time in eight years that they’ve seen him too. He seems self-conscious, almost defensive.

Geoff turns away. He looks at the fire, burning around them, the crumbling remains of the building and all the props. He comes over to Jeremy and bends down, fingers brushing over Gavin’s cold cheek for a moment before he straightens up. Looks at Michael. Looks between them.

Then stares across the room at Ray, meeting his eyes for a long moment. There’s something upset in Ray’s face. Jeremy can’t tell what passes between them - but he sees Geoff’s gaze flick to Ryan next, and the other man shakes his head slowly.

“Everyone,” Geoff announces, and there’s something so commanding in his voice that it’s clear that they’re not playing games anymore. This is the Geoff who’s run various cities for centuries, ancient Geoff, the leader of the crew - it’s terrifying to hear him so serious, suddenly. “Back to the penthouse. _Now_. This has gone too far.”

“Geoff-”

“I don’t want to fucking hear it, Michael,” Geoff snaps. He stares at each of them in turn. “Let’s go. _Everybody_.”

He turns on his heel and walks out. Michael marches out alone after him. Jeremy sees Jack walk over to Ray and pull him into a tight hug for a moment before leaning in to talk to him, intently, quietly enough that Jeremy can’t hear what he’s saying. Ray seems uncertain, not quite as affectionate - a bit distant and guarded still.

He jumps when Ryan suddenly comes up by his side, stopping him spying further. He squats next to Jeremy, reaching out and wiping some of the blood from Gavin’s face.

“He gonna resurrect here?” he asks, and Jeremy nods.

“Yeah - in like fifteen minutes, maybe.”

“We’ll take him back to the car,” Ryan says. He moves to pick Gavin up, but Jeremy shakes his head.

“I got him,” he says, maybe a bit too quickly.

Ryan looks at him for a long moment. Jeremy’s not sure what he’s thinking. He knows that Ryan must know, by now, what was happening between him and Gavin before all this. Between him and Gavin and _Michael_ , he thinks with a pang - after all this drama, it’s hard to think of the other two men returning to how they were before, all fond teasing and gentle touches and smiles and laughter, _you’re my boi, Gavvy_ \- can they go back to that? Can they put this all behind them? Surely, with enough time. But right now, it just feels like everything is falling apart.

But Ryan nods and reaches out, patting his shoulder before leaving - Jeremy bites his lip, staring around at the destruction one last time, before scooping Gavin up, cradling him close as he follows the others out.

\---

Back at the penthouse, there’s a heavy tension in the air. Jeremy feels nervous, like he’s about to get a scolding or a lecture. After all, he played a part in things - he helped Michael destroy Gavin’s heist prep - and now here he is, sat on a couch between the two of them. Both are sullen and angry. Gavin woke up in the car on the way back, but hasn’t spoken since - he’s put his sunglasses on, too, so no one can see his face, but his lips are pressed together in a thin, annoyed line.

Ray and Ryan are lurking on opposite sides of the room, while Geoff stands in front of them all like a disappointed schoolteacher.

“Usually I don’t mind when you two get into your stupid dick measuring contests,” he chides. “But this is too much. Both of you went too far. You’re destroying the city, you’re causing trouble and drawing attention to us, and you’re taking things to a level that’s just not acceptable anymore. Michael - pulling Jeremy in when he’s still so new isn’t fair on him.”

Michael doesn’t answer, but he does stiffen a little, guiltily, and Jeremy can’t help feeling a bit bad that all the blame’s falling on the other man when he did technically participate as well.

“Gavin,” Geoff continues, “I’m not sure why you brought Ray back, but you knew it would escalate things. There’s a lot going on here - and none of it’s getting dealt with, except in destructive ways.”

He stares at them for a long minute, then announces, “The heist competition is off.”

Michael and Jeremy both sit up straight.

“ _Geoff_ ,” Michael begins, indignantly - even Jeremy can’t help feeling a bit put off. All their planning! They really did put a lot of work into it. But Geoff’s shaking his head, firmly.

“You’ve ruined Gavin’s,” he declares. “So there’s no point continuing this shitfest. _Instead_ ,” he adds loudly, before anyone can complain further, “We’re all taking a trip.”

There’s a confused silence - Jeremy sees Ray, leaning against the wall, straighten up with a frown.

“What?” Jeremy asks.

“Clearly things are too tense here,” Geoff says. “I think we all need to get away from the city. But we also all need to communicate, relax, get rid of some of this tension - and I don’t think that can happen here.”

Jack looks surprised too. Clearly this is something of a snap-decision on Geoff’s part - but he looks determined, nodding away to himself now.

“There’s a private island some distance off the coast of AC,” he says, addressing Jeremy in particular now. “No one goes there except us. We’ve been there a few times before. It’ll be a good place, I think, for a few of us to clear our heads.”

“You want us to go on _holiday_ ,” Michael says, in disbelief.

Geoff gives a decisive nod. He seems very pleased with himself.

“That is exactly what I want,” he says. “Yes. It’s decided! We’re all going!”

Jeremy just sits there, rather shocked. It’s been a hell of a fucking night and even now he’s like, _what the fuck is going on._ Beside him, he sees Gavin reach up and slowly take off his glasses. There’s a dark bruise around his left eye and he rubs his hands over his face, still saying nothing. The entire room fills with an awkward silence, and Jeremy can only sit there, surrounded by all the others, and apparently they’re now all gonna go on some sort of beach island holiday together, and…

_Okay,_ he thinks, rather hysterically, even more unsure now just _what_ he’s gotten himself into. _This is fine._


	3. Chapter 3

Gavin’s floating face-down in the swimming pool. From this angle, it almost looks like he’s drowned, but Jeremy knows he’s resting on a paddleboard.

There’s something so tranquil about this place. The isolated island, lined by stretches of thick jungle and empty beaches - the big cabin house that Jack built. The noise and bustle of the city long behind them - just the gentle lap of ocean waves and the trill of cicadas lingering in the warm tropical air.

Gavin’s alone down there. From up on one of the cabin balconies, Jeremy can’t see his face. Just the bare, tan skin of his back against the bright turquoise water of the pool, the sun glinting off his skin and his hair - bottle blond again now - and his sparkly, gold bathing trunks.

His gaze lingers. He remembers what it felt like to kiss warm skin, to let his hand trail over the sharp ridges of Gavin’s spine, and swallows hard.

“Gav loves swimming,” a voice behind him says, and Jeremy jumps a mile before spinning guiltily around. Great, now he feels creepy.

Jack’s standing behind him, smiling softly. He’s holding a frozen orange, and passes half to Jeremy, who accepts it gratefully. It’s stupidly humid out here - summer’s set in and everywhere outdoors is just constantly _warm_.

“I remember him telling me about all the ‘swimmy bevs’ we’d do in the summer,” Jeremy says, and Jack laughs.

“We will,” he assures him. “Don’t worry, this will pass.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Jeremy mutters.

“Everything does,” Jack says, but Jeremy’s sick of _hearing that_. Ever since they got here - and it’s been three days now, of sun and sand and sea and _nothing_ \- Michael’s still not talking to anyone. Gavin’s pulled away. He doesn’t think he’s seen Ray even once.

“How are you so _sure_?” he cries. “These last eight years, weren’t you ever worried Ray wouldn’t come back?”

Jack’s silent for a long moment - idly chewing on his orange segment, staring down at the water. Gavin’s rolled over onto his back now, floating lazily, dark sunglasses hiding his face still.

“It takes a special sort of person to sell their soul, to want to be immortal,” he says, finally.

Jeremy frowns - annoyed he’s not answering the question, but it fades when he sees how serious and thoughtful Jack looks.

“More like a young and stupid sort of person,” he replies.

Jack snorts.

“True - but you know, a lot of those rich assholes who find the secret to all this… they chicken out, don’t go through with it. The moment you stop and think, really _think_ about what’s gonna happen, how you’ll be around _endlessly_ …”

He trails off, and there’s something so oddly serious in his tone that Jeremy can only stare at him, transfixed. Unsure where this is going.

  
“Forever is impossible to wrap your head around,” Jack continues, finally. “The idea that nothing will have an _end_ … for some people, it takes away having anything to work for. You lose some of your humanity when you sell your soul, of course you do. Nothing you can put your finger on at first, but… _something_. That drive to do something with your life maybe. Or your need to find love, to connect with others in the fleeting time you have. You grow old and cynical… the way you look at other people changes.”

Jeremy is silent. The words hit hard. He remembers far too well the days he spent lounging around his apartment before he met the others. Not bothering to get up out of bed, to move or shower or eat… just too _much_ time, so much he had nothing to motivate him. Nothing seemed worth doing anymore. He remembers how shitty that felt.

Jack must notice the look on his face. He smiles and reaches out, squeezing Jeremy’s shoulder.

“But finding this crew,” he says, far more brightly. “That helped a lot!”

Jeremy forces a smile back, nodding. His mind’s still stuck on the rest of what Jack said.

“Ryan’s really older than you lot, isn’t he?” he asks. He thinks about the other man sometimes, all the things he must’ve seen… wonders if he even remembers all of it, or if it’s just faded into the past. If eventually, they’ll all forget.

“Yes, he’s the oldest immortal we’ve ever met,” Jack says. “But he was younger than Geoff when he sold his soul. So younger in physical body age, but older up here.” He taps the side of his head, and Jeremy nods.

“He was the first to join us,” Jack continues - Jeremy perks up; he hasn’t heard much of this story before. Even Michael never told him how he joined the others - he realises now that’s probably because it involved Ray. “When Geoff started building his empire, Ryan heard about us, and sought us out. Then Michael and Ray came along, then Gav… and each time, it was so special. Someone else seeking that connection again, coming to join our group, our _family_. It made things seem brighter, more hopeful… it sounds so cheesy, but it’s true. I’ve been alive a long time, Jeremy. The world’s always changing - sometimes it feels like it happens so fast. But the crew is stable, in a good way. And you joining too was nice,” he adds, “It’s been good having you here with us.”

“Thanks,” Jeremy replies, softly. He knows Jack well enough to tell he genuinely means it.

Jack squeezes his arm again, then looks back down at Gavin. He sighs.

“This _will_ blow over,” he repeats. “Like I said - forever’s an impossible time to comprehend. So no, I never worried about Ray not coming back. I don’t know what happened here, between all three of the lads, but… Gavin gets all worked up about things sometimes.”

“You’re together,” Jeremy says, because he still gets a bit confused sometimes.

“Yes,” Jack confirms. “We’re very close, even if we don’t spend all our time together. _Geoff_ is very close with him,” he adds, and Jeremy scoffs a little. He’d noticed how comfortable those two seemed together, constantly teasing and roughhousing. “He was actually the first to meet Gav. He’d gone away to England to organise some shit for our crew back when we were only just starting up with all the others - Michael and Ray had just joined, and the rest of us stayed back in America. It wasn’t so easy to travel in those days. But Geoff was gone a month and then returned with this ridiculous kid.”

He shakes his head fondly, but there’s something a bit more serious in his eyes.

“Gavin was a mess at first,” he says. “Did nothing but hard drugs, was constantly drunk, the works. Just wrecking himself over and over since he knew he’d always heal up anyway. He’d been a thief before - like you, I guess - that was how he ended up finding the artefacts, selling his soul, too. He hadn’t been immortal long, maybe twenty years when Geoff found him?  But it was long enough for the few people he was close with to die. In those days and in the gang business that’s not uncommon. He was already filthy rich and had just become a total party animal…”

He trails off, not seeming to like how he phrased that, before sighing.

“I know that makes it sound like I’m trivialising it, but I guess we just do stupid shit when we realise there are no consequences. He was still in the ‘binge’ stage where you push the limits, test it all… but at first, he wouldn’t get close to any of us. Guess he couldn’t get it through his head that we were all immortal to, that he wouldn’t lose us like he had everyone else already. It probably didn’t help that Michael and Ray were together, and Geoff and I were too, and Ryan - well, he’s _Ryan_. So he probably felt like the odd one out for a while.”

_Sounds like me_ , Jeremy can’t help thinking. It’s a strange notion - doesn’t fit with the Gavin he knows, loud and boisterous and confident. If he doesn’t fit in somewhere, he’ll immediately and vigorously carve out some sort of space to settle himself in comfortably.

“He’d gotten himself killed in a barfight the night Geoff met him,” Jack continues - he’s telling the story in such a disjointed way that Jeremy can tell he’s preoccupied with something, that maybe this whole business is worrying him more than he says. “Geoff didn’t realise he was immortal yet - but he killed everyone else who he’d seen ganging up on this kid. He’d been provoking them, of course, but you know Gav - he acts like a total brat, but under all of that… he’s sweet, he has something that makes you want to draw that part out. Anyway, Geoff thought he’d died, so he went to try bury him when he woke the fuck back up in the back of his car. Needless to say, the whole story came out. Geoff was the first other person Gavin met who was immortal, who knew it was even _possible_ , so he latched onto him like some weird duckling.”

Jeremy snorts, and Jack smiles a bit.

“Yep… fun times, those first few months. Anyway, he brought him back to America to join the crew. He got on with Michael right away. Ray didn’t like him though - that caused some tension. And Ryan… Ryan was indifferent, acted like he never even noticed someone new had joined us. But look at us now!” he adds, grinning. “We’ve come a long way. And I _know_ everything will be okay in the end. I promise you, Michael can’t hate Gavin forever. He loves him - we all do. We all love each other.”

Jeremy smiles faintly. There’s such a genuine sincerity in Jack’s voice that it makes something in him ache. He can’t tell what it is - gratitude. Longing, maybe. 

Jack shuffles closer to him until their arms are pressed together. The afternoon’s worn on and the sun’s just beginning to sink a little, the bright blue sky to fade to orange. The ocean, in the distance, looks beautiful in the dying light.

“Come eat with me,” Jack says, softly. “I was about to start cooking. We can eat out on the patio - it’ll be cooler by the time the food’s done.”

“Is it a date?” 

Jeremy’s not sure why he blurts it out. Maybe because of what Jack said - _we all love each other_ \- maybe because things feel different here, away from the city, with the tensions between some of them making Jeremy feel closer to others. 

He feels nervous as soon as it’s out of his mouth - his stomach churning, unsure of himself and almost wishing he could take it back - but Jack just smiles his lovely smile.

“If you want it to be,” he replies.

Jeremy smiles back, his nerves vanishing into nothing but a spreading, relieved warmth. He nods, and Jack takes his hand and leads him back inside. Behind them the sun sets, casting bright golden light over the rippling pool-water and Gavin, floating motionless, showing no sign of moving any time soon.

\---

So that’s nice - an evening spent just the two of them, in the complete silence of the island. Jeremy has no idea where the others are, although he thinks he sees Ryan moving around in the gardens near the cabin at one point, a dark shadow that Jack’s eyes track silently before he turns back to his food.

The food is good - they cooked it together - and the wine is some sort of ridiculously expensive vintage. They don’t talk about everything else that’s going on - instead, Jack tells him about the island, and how Geoff bought the whole fucking thing from some other millionaire, and they built this place up together. He tells them about the holidays they’ve taken here-  ridiculous games out on the water, hikes in the jungle. How they used to love it here.

Ray features in some of the stories now. It’s strange hearing about him - just from what Jack’s saying, he definitely seems more withdrawn than the others. Less chaotic, more precise in his decisions and actions.

Jeremy’s still not sure he likes it, this sudden intrusion into something he thought he was starting to understand. Some selfish part of himself almost wishes Ray had never existed at all.

But Jack doesn’t talk about the other man too long. He asks about Jeremy, too - his ideas for heists, places he wants to go or things he wants to try in their endless time.

_It’s a date_ , Jeremy keeps telling himself - and so he lets himself enjoy it, try to forget all the drama. Allows himself to relish being alone with the other man, and to notice how soft and warm Jack’s eyes are, how the other man’s large hand folds over his own on the table, his fingers rough and calloused but gentle. How his red hair flickers in the light of the patio lanterns.

Later.

Night’s fallen by now, and without any city lights around it’s nearly pitch black - completely dark in some areas of the island. There’s a funny stillness over everything, like a thick blanket, the stars in the sky like scattered handfuls of glittering sequins. It makes him think of Gavin for some reason, as he walks, looking up at them, nearly dizzy from how immense and vast the space above him seems.

Jack’s taken the dishes in to wash, so Jeremy finds himself going for a walk alone along the coast. It’s still warm enough that he’s quite comfortable in his tank top, and he takes his shoes off and wanders barefoot along the beach. The sand between his toes is still comfortingly warm, the lap of waves soothing.

He looks around as he walks. There’s a row of colourful lanterns in the distance, strung along some of the jungle that lines the other side of the beach, twinkling bright beacons of red, blue, gold, green, pink, purple. They’re quite funny, a cheerful glow like fairies against the dark treeline. He can see, under them, a figure sitting cross-legged, and as he gets closer he realises it’s Ryan. He’d thought the other man was back at the house. Jeremy isn’t sure what he’s doing - seems to be staring out into the water. He doesn’t want to disturb him.

He notices the others around him, after a while. Gavin’s making his way back to the house from the water - he must’ve gone swimming in the ocean at some point, probably after the pool water got cold. He’s got his head down and doesn’t seem to notice Jeremy standing some distance away. He makes a funny figure in the dark, thin and angular, his hair flat from the water, trailing a beach towel behind him. Jeremy wonders if he’s eaten anything yet or if he’s just been swimming all day. But he shakes it off, knowing Jack will take care of him when he returns, and turns slowly away.

Geoff’s still in a boat out on the water, under the stars. Jeremy thinks he’s fishing. For a moment, he wishes he was out there with him, under the light of the bright moon, away from here.

There’s still no sign of Ray. 

Jeremy hasn’t seen Michael much since getting here, either. But now, he turns in a slow circle on the sand, and pauses. There’s smoke rising from the forest, a thin white trail snaking up against the dark night sky. He can faintly smell it, mingling with the salt of the ocean, and bites his lip - but grabs his phone as a light and heads into the dark trees.

\---

The jungle is dark, and muggy, and silent, not a bird or creature stirring. By the bluish light of his phone, Jeremy can only dimly see the thick foliage in front of him, branches and leaves brushing across his shoulders as he picks his way through. Once he might’ve been scared, to be alone out here in the dark, in a place so quiet that it could almost make him feel like he’s alone in the entire world. But not now, when nothing can kill him.

Finally he emerges onto one of the trails that have been cleared out. From here, he can see warm, flickering firelight in the distance, glowing between the slender trunks of palm trees like jail bars.

He moves towards it, and catches sight of Michael, a crouched dark figure squatting next to a round bed of flaming stones. The fire’s contained in a little pit, and Jeremy’s glad he’s not setting the whole island ablaze. He likes this place, and would rather it not be left in charred remains like most other things Michael encounters.

“Hey,” he calls out softly as he emerges. “Haven’t seen you around much.”

“Been around,” Michael grunts, without looking up.

_At least he’s talking_ , Jeremy thinks. He’s starting to get sick of being ignored. He inches forward - Michael pokes the fire with a long stick before settling back on the ground. Jeremy sits next to him, not quite close enough to touch.

Given the weather, it’s warm here by the fire - almost too warm. Michael’s got his shirt off, his bare skin smudged with dirt and grime and ash. Jeremy glances at him and can’t help but notice how smooth and pale his skin is. They heal from everything, so none of them have scars - all their wounds leave no marks. Everything fades, in time.

“You doing okay?” he asks, carefully.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?” Michael shoots back, voice sharp and defensive. Jeremy can’t help but bite his lip, a little hurt by the constant hostility towards _him_ \- but he swallows it down, and forces himself to be patient.

“Because Ray’s back,” he replies, “And you killed Gavin after that big fight, and I _know_ you’re upset, okay? I know this is stressing you out.”

Michael looks away, shoulders hunching. He doesn’t deny it. In the flickering light he looks tired, and Jeremy’s annoyance fades. He feels nothing but sorry for him.

“What needs to happen here?” he urges, quietly.

“Gavin needs to go fuck himself,” Michael mutters, but there’s little spirit in it.

“No, seriously, Michael,” Jeremy insists. “How do we get over this? Because you defeated him, right, you ruined his heist and literally _killed_ him, but you’re still pissed.”

Michael’s jaw clenches. Jeremy leans closer to him.

“What happened between you and him?” he asks. “By him I mean both Gavin _and_ Ray-”

“Nothing,” Michael snaps, and Jeremy throws his hands up.

“How can I help you if you won’t _talk_ to me?” he cries.

Michael seems startled by his outburst. His eyes widen and he stares at Jeremy for a long moment until the other man finally sighs and lowers his hands, turning away.

“I know you guys make this big deal about time not mattering,” he says. “About everything fixing itself up eventually. About not having to _worry_. But if I… if someone I cared about a lot disappeared for eight fucking years, I’d be upset. I’d miss them. I’d want them to come home. I’d be emotional, I-”

“What makes you think I care about him?” Michael cuts in. His voice is strained and croaky, and Jeremy feels another tug in his chest. He shakes his head slowly.

“Don’t play this game, Michael,” he chides. “It’s pretty fucking obvious - besides, Jack told me. You two were together before he left. Together since the start. Look, I don’t know what Ray did that upset you so much, but he’s _back_ now. There’s nothing to be done about that. Is whatever happened really worth holding onto?”

Michael still doesn’t answer. He gathers a handful of dry leaves from the ground next to him and throws them into the fire. They flare up brightly and Jeremy can’t help but flinch a little as a shower of sparks rains towards him. He sighs, biting his lip, helplessness flooding in again, especially when Michael still doesn’t reply.

Finally, he shifts.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asks.

When Michael doesn’t answer, Jeremy starts to get up, heavy-hearted - but as soon as he moves, Michael’s hand suddenly closes around his wrist, holding him still.

“No,” the other man whispers, and Jeremy turns to him. Michael’s still not looking at him, staring resolutely into the fire - but his jaw’s clenched tight, and his grip on Jeremy’s wrist doesn’t loosen until the other man sits down again.

For a moment, Jeremy thinks Michael’s gonna talk. But even when he doesn’t - it’s clear he’s thinking, that he took in what Jeremy said. That’s better than nothing, so he settles back down, and shifts closer against Michael’s side, and lets the other man rest his head against his shoulder as they sit, staring into the dancing flames, silent and contemplative.

\---

It’s nice to not be tired all the time.

Jeremy sleeps in like he has every morning since they came to the island, and every day is warm and bright and seems to move at half-speed. He wakes to white sunlight streaming through his window, and the trill of various jungle birds outside, and when he gets up normally one of the gents is pottering around the house in some sort of absurdly normal show of domesticity.

It really does feel like being on holiday. He hadn’t realised how exhausting the city was lately. But he loves the fresh air, and sweet fruits and shaved ice for breakfast, rockmelons with salt and papaya hollowed out with yogurt, and the constant brine smell of the sea, and going out for walks under the hot sun.

He feels much more refreshed the next day when he heads out for a morning walk along the beach. Michael’s in his room, still asleep - last night they headed back to the house together in silence, and haven’t spoken since. Jeremy hopes Michael will talk to him again later on, once he wakes up - he’s optimistic that what he said got through to him.

For now, he’s kicking a stone along the beach when he notices Gavin walking towards him, and pauses.

The other man’s got his sunglasses on as usual, so Jeremy can’t really read the look on his face. He’s wearing a loose tank top, one of the ones that’s open all down the sides, and possibly the shortest shorts Jeremy’s ever seen. Like what the fuck. There’s underwear longer than those shorts. 

He’s also got on a giant, floppy sunhat. As Jeremy watches, it blows away in a sudden gust of ocean wind, spiralling over the sand towards him - he chases after it and catches it mid-air. Gavin applauds.

“Wow, Lil’ J,” he declares. “You’re a good catch.”

“Thanks,” Jeremy calls back, jogging over to him. Gavin’s removed his sunglasses now, hooking them into the front of his shirt. Being away from here seems to have done him good; even without makeup he looks less tired, his eyes brighter. The sun suits him.

“We should play frisbee some time,” he continues. “Oh my god, we all got so into trying different sports a while back. Ever heard of Turkish oil wrestling?”

“No, but I’m intrigued.” Jeremy reaches his side and puts the hat on his head for him. Gavin’s smile widens and Jeremy grins back up at him. It’s nice to see him happy again, to stand so close, feel the other man’s warm hand on his arm as he reaches out and presses Jeremy’s elbow in thanks. He’s been wondering lately if Gavin’s pissed off at him. He did, after all, help destroy his heist stuff. With a chainsaw. Before standing by as Michael shot him in the head.

“You going for a swim?” Jeremy asks, turning and glancing out at the ocean. The sea looks a bit rough.

Gavin shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says. “It’s too windy today! Look at those waves. Hectic.”

Jeremy laughs. Gavin grins sheepishly at him. He’s clutching his hat with both hands now. There’s something weirdly childlike about the motion.

“Well, I was gonna go for a walk up there,” Jeremy says, pointing up towards a nearby cliffside. It’s a fairly steep hike, the beach leading away into rocky stretches of sandstone and scattered jungle, but there’ll be a nice view from the top. “You wanna come?”

Gavin nods. Jeremy leads the way across the beach, Gavin trailing after him. They don’t speak as they move across the sand, but occasionally their hands brush. At one point, as they round a stretch of the beach, Jeremy catches sight of Jack and Ryan in the distance. They’re sitting together up on some large rocks that stretch out into the water, faces close, talking intently. 

Jeremy glances over at Gavin. He’s watching the two of them, something funny in his eyes. Jeremy thinks of the things Michael yelled at him. He knows the other man didn’t mean them, but they were so bitter and hateful that it must have hurt. He knows _he’d_ have been hurt. Gavin usually lets everything roll off him, like water off the back of an incredibly blond, fashionable duck. But things have been different, lately. Seemed to matter more.

They reach the bottom of the cliff edge. It’s tucked into a secluded little cover, so there’s no wind at least, as they stare up at the jagged incline of boulders and ledges and gravelly dirt. There’s no track up, just a vague sort of path where a few people might’ve climbed before. But they’re both agile and strong, and what’s there to be scared of? Falling and breaking their necks?  


“I’ll go first,” Jeremy says, holding out a hand to stop Gavin when he steps forward. Gavin shoots him a puzzled look, but shrugs.

Truth be told, the main reason is that if Gavin’s above him, Jeremy’s pretty sure he’ll have a direct view right up the other man’s incredibly short shorts - which yes, might be tempting on any other day, but not now, when everyone’s all at odds and nothing seems _right_.

They climb in silence, hauling themselves up the tricky path, clinging to rocks and digging their heels in. They both have good balance, so it’s a fun workout. Now and then they’ll have to steady each other, or extend a hand to help one another up a particularly difficult stretch.   


“Remember those goats what licked the salt?” Gavin says out of the blue at some point.

Jeremy glances down at him, bemused. There is an absolutely enormous flying beetle sitting on the brim of Gavin’s hat, which he’s pretty sure the other man doesn’t know about. He elects not to tell him, not wanting to prompt a freak-out that might send one or the other of them tumbling down the cliff.

“No,” he replies, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Just feels a bit like that, dunnit.”

Jeremy can only laugh. He’s missed the other man, and his strange comments and random preoccupations, and feels a swell of fondness.

“You’re a goat,” he says, childishly, and is pleased when it makes Gavin giggle.

“Your _mum’s_ a goat,” Gavin shoots back.

“Yeah, well your mom _fucked_ a goat,” Jeremy declares, “Your brother’s Mr. fucking Tumnus,” and Gavin laughs so hard he nearly falls off the cliff, and it’s _nice_ , and it feels like before.

\---

“Careful,” Jeremy says, some time later. They’re nearing the top, now, and while the ground’s less steep, there are fewer handholds. “This bit’s slippery.”

He holds onto a protruding tree root with one hand, and extends the other down towards Gavin, who grasps it tightly. Jeremy drags him up easily, and Gavin clings to him when he gets a foothold on the same flat ledge that Jeremy’s standing on. Jeremy wraps an arm around his waist, holding him close.

“Thanks, Lil’ J,” Gavin says - peeping at him from under the brim of his hat. It’s odd to be pressed so close again; even if they’re both sweaty and sticky from the climb, Jeremy’s heart picks up a little.

“Hey,” he finds himself blurting out. He’s not sure why standing on the edge of a precipice seems like a good place to say this, but it’s been eating at him the whole climb up, and now with Gavin right up next to him, it somehow seems like a good time. “I…”

“What?” Gavin encourages him, and Jeremy swallows, hard.

“I’m sorry about helping Michael ruin your heist. I know how hard you worked on it - I’d’ve been upset if you did the same to us. It was petty and uncalled for. I wish I hadn’t done it. I’m sorry.”

Gavin goes very still. His grip on Jeremy’s shirt slackens absently, and Jeremy tightens his arm around the other man’s hip, worried he’ll fall.

“Oh,” Gavin says, finally. He seems surprised, and his face is guarded when he meets Jeremy’s eyes again. “It’s okay, Lil’ J. To be honest, until now I kinda hadn’t even thought about how you were involved. I was just focused on Michael!”

“Dammit,” Jeremy jokes. “Should’ve kept my mouth shut!”

He’s glad when Gavin laughs again, pressing his forehead briefly into Jeremy’s shoulder.

“No, I’m glad you apologised. Most of the time we never do. Just let things blow over, don’t bother saying sorry. That means a lot - thank you. Honestly, I kinda just assumed Michael pressured you into it, the bastard.”

“I… not directly,” Jeremy admits. “He was just so _upset_ \- those pictures you kept sending wound him up. He seemed hurt - I wanted to help _somehow_.”

Gavin’s stiffened again.

“Yeah, I bet they did,” he mutters. Then looks down at Jeremy again and adds, “It’s fine. You’re closest to him - of course that’s where your loyalty lies.”

There’s something about the way he says it that makes Jeremy pause.

“I know him the best,” he corrects, carefully. “That doesn’t mean I care about him the most.”

Gavin’s eyes widen. He gives a funny, small smile before looking up at the cliff face. 

“Let’s continue this conversation when there’s not an 80 foot drop behind us,” he suggests, and Jeremy laughs and moves to boost him up the rest of the way.

The cliff faces back towards the mainland. In the distance, and only because the sky’s so clear, Achievement City is faintly visible - a blurred, dark shape, the spires of the skyscrapers a vague outline against the blue sky, white spots of sails surrounding it like scattered daisies. The water is beautiful - lashing swirls of deep blue, sea green, light shimmering over the surface like it’s made of rippling rolls of silk, flapping in the breeze.

The wind’s died down a bit, and the top of the cliff is warm and grassy as Jeremy sits down and pulls his bag towards him. He brought water and snacks, anticipating being out most of the day.

Gavin settles next to him in the grass. He pulls his legs up in front of him, and Jeremy hisses as he notices a huge, bloody graze across the top of his bare thigh.

“Shit, does that hurt?”

Gavin glances disinterestedly at the scrape, barely seeming to register it.

“Must’ve scraped it on a rock,” he says, not sounding particularly bothered. He leans forward and promptly _licks_ the wound, like a cat, while Jeremy looks on in morbid fascination.

“Do you want a bandaid or something?” he offers, but Gavin shakes his head.

“It’s just a scratch,” he says, matter-of-factly. “It’ll heal. Everything does. Unless a limb comes off or something, it really doesn’t matter to me.”

“I see.”

“I feel very little pain by this point,” Gavin adds. “Or maybe I’m just used to it.”

Jeremy can’t help but lean forward, intrigued. He’s been shot, blown up, run over, and fallen from numerous aeroplanes since joining the crew, but dying still makes him flinch. He still tries to avoid any injury that’ll leave him suffering before he manages to off himself and reset things. They might heal unnaturally fast alongside coming back from the dead, but things still _hurt_.

But the others - the others barely flinch at anything, now. He’s seen most of them, at various points, wander around half-burned or trailing horrible smears of blood, and they appear to give absolutely zero fucks. He once saw Gavin doing the Gangnam Style dance with a fucking metal rebar sticking clean through his side.

“Still,” he can’t help saying. “Pain is pain. It isn’t nice. We should avoid it if we can.”

“Should we?” Gavin murmurs.

“Of course,” Jeremy insists. “Even if we heal, it still matters. I guess that’s one part of what makes people like us, who can’t die, still human. We don’t like being hurt.”  


Gavin hums thoughtfully, and looks away. There’s a long, still pause, the distant crash of waves filling the silence. After a moment, Jeremy rather awkwardly offers him a cheese and biscuits snack pack.

Gavin gives a startled laugh, then smiles and takes it. He carefully removes his hat and lays it besides him, then unhooks his sunglasses from his shirt and places them on top. And then, inexplicably, takes off his shoes and lays his bare feet flat on the ground.

“It’s important to go barefoot sometimes,” he announces. “There’s electricity in the ground that our bodies need to stay balanced.”

“I… see.”

“I watched some documentary on it,” Gavin says, solemnly. “It’s called ‘earthing.’ Cures a bunch of health problems. Apparently.”

Jeremy can only stare at him, bemused - it’s the sort of weird, semi-scientific fact Gavin will spout and get made fun of for, then inevitably end up being proven right about later.

“You’re incredible, you know?” he replies.

“I know,” Gavin says, proudly, but the way his eyes flicker away immediately betray him, and Jeremy shifts closer.

“I mean it,” he says. “I don’t know what the fuck your heist was about, but I bet if you’d been able to go through with it it’d have been damn impressive.”  
  
“I was going for, like, a modern surrealist kinda vibe,” Gavin informs him, in a mock-posh accent. “With a dash of _cirque du soleil_.”

“I can tell,” Jeremy says with a laugh.

Gavin smiles a bit, but sighs.

“Shame you guys roasted it all,” he says, and snaps a cracker into several pieces, crumbling it into the grass. A seagull lurking nearby eyes it beadily.

“What happened?” Jeremy asks, quietly. “Back there, your fight with Michael… it got pretty damn vicious. The two of you - why did it turn so personal? The others say this happens all the time but I find that hard to believe.”

Gavin looks away, jaw tightening. But Jeremy waits, patiently, and finally Gavin sighs.

“Can’t believe he full killed me,” he mutters, then shakes himself. “We do bicker a lot. And yeah, we have a bit of rivalry at times. But this time it… it went further than usual.”

“You brought back Ray,” Jeremy points out.

“Michael brought you in first,” Gavin says, voice sharp, close to snapping.

Jeremy startles, unsure what that has to do with anything - especially the way it burst out of Gavin, like he hadn’t meant to say it.

_Me?_ he thinks, shocked - Gavin won’t look at him.

“You want to know what happened?” he continues, through gritted teeth. “ _You_ happened.”

“I…” Jeremy trails off, uncertain, and Gavin glances over at him.

“Oh, I’m not blaming you,” he assures him, quickly. “That’d be too easy. It’s not your fault. You’re lovely, Jeremy, you really are. You’re like, super nice to me all the time. I’ve never met anyone like that before, except maybe Jack. Oh my God, you’re like mini Jack! That’s why we call you Lil’ J, I guess.”

Jeremy stares at him.

“Just kidding,” Gavin says. “It’s ‘cause you’re _short_.”

“Gav,” Jeremy begins, a little frustrated that he’s getting off topic. 

Gavin shakes himself, and looks away again.

“Since you arrived,” he says, voice quiet and tight, “Michael ignores me all the time.”

It takes a moment for it to process. Then Jeremy’s eyes widen.

“He doesn’t, though,” he argues. “The three of us, we… we had something, _all_ of us, _together._ I saw him hanging out with you all the time!”

“Yeah, that was good, wasn’t it,” Gavin agrees. “The three of us… I don’t normally get jealous, Jeremy. But something… something was different this time. Even when we were all together - I dunno. He just kept spending more and more time with you. He took you up in his new plane, but refused to take me. I could only ever do shit with him anymore if you were there, too. Otherwise, he wasn’t interested. And I get why - he was probably excited about having someone new around, someone to help him forget about Ray. Even after eight years I know he was still sour about it.”

He’s picking at the grass around him, now, tearing it up in chunks and throwing it away.

“But I just - I got annoyed when he wouldn’t,” he continues, voice upset now, thick with frustration. “So I crashed his plane. It was a mean thing to do, but he blew up at me about not wanting to take me up in it and how I was constantly _pestering him for things_ and I guess I just… got angry. Then he destroyed all my cars and things just _escalated_ and then it was _worse_ because he was working with _you_ the whole time and I just - I don’t know. I don’t know!”

He throws a handful of grass into the air, his voice breaking a little. Jeremy can only stare.

“He said some really nasty things to me in our chat,” Gavin continues, and Jeremy lets out a huff of breath.

“Those fucking chats,” he mutters.

“I mean it,” Gavin says, glancing at him. “He was horrid to me. I mean, granted, I may have called him a _few_ choice names in return. But like… even before this whole fight happened, he kept telling me to fuck off. To stop bothering him. He was busy all the time - but never too busy for _you_.”

Jeremy’s head is spinning. This is all coming out of fucking nowhere - the entire time he’d been with the two of them, he hadn’t even realised all this was going on behind the scenes. It’s startling to realise there was so much he wasn’t witness to, an entire tension brewing between the two men when he’d thought everything was going just fine, and they’d seemed perfectly loving around _him_.

“So maybe I was jealous,” Gavin cries, “But he was an asshole first!”

Jeremy nods, understandingly - and his sympathy seems to reassure Gavin a bit, make him less defensive. His shoulders slump a little.

“And finally, I couldn’t stand it,” he mutters. “I wanted him to feel left out too. So I brought back Ray.”

He huffs, and Jeremy frowns a bit - remembering how awkwardly the two men acted, despite Gavin’s attempts to make it look like they were having the time of their lives in all his ridiculous photos.

“And how’s that going for you?” he asks. “What did Ray… what did he say, what does he think?”

“Ray doesn’t care about anything,” Gavin says, darkly. “It was hard to track him down, but I did it. I’m smarter than they all think sometimes. I found him, and told him what was going on, and asked him to come help, and he just said ‘okay.’ That was it. ‘Okay.’ Not _I missed you_ , not anything, just, ‘alright. Sounds like fun.’ And that was it.”

Jeremy stares.

“You didn’t ask more?” he demands. “Do you know what happened with him and-”

“Michael?” Gavin asks. His jaw clenches. “No, and I don’t bloody care. That’s between them.”

Jeremy bites his lip, unsure where to go from here. He has some answers, but not the whole story. Not nearly enough to _fix_ this. Gavin looks away.

“I loved Ray too, you know,” he says, so quietly Jeremy can barely hear him. “He didn’t even say goodbye. Not that it matters, I suppose he was always gonna come back _eventually_ , but… I dunno. I don’t like it when people just _vanish_. None of the gents seemed fussed, and Michael seemed _glad_ he was gone. It left just me kinda there like, fuck guys, we just gonna let him go, apparently. But I brought him back,” he adds, a fierce note rising in his voice, “ _I_ did, and what thanks do I get? Just everyone pissed off at me again!”

He throws his hands up and turns away, shoulders hunching up as he wraps his arms around his knees. Jeremy’s heart aches. He’s still not quite sure what to think of all this - but he remembers what Jack told him. How before this, Gavin was the last to join the crew, and even if it was years ago, even for all his vanities and arrogance… things like that can make you sensitive. Jeremy knows it’s made _him_ sensitive.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says, softly, and puts a hand over Gavin’s. The other man freezes, and Jeremy presses on. “It sucks. I can see why you were so mad.”

“Really?” Gavin mutters. “You don’t think I’m just a brat throwing a tantrum?”

“I mean, yeah. But a well deserved tantrum, and an understandable brattiness.”

Gavin looks shocked. Then he starts laughing, quite genuinely, and leans in, bumping against Jeremy’s side.

“You’re really something else, Lil’ J,” he says, shaking his head. “I mean it when I said I don’t hold this whole business against you, even if you were on Michael’s side.”

Jeremy smiles, and cups his cheek. It’s strange to feel like the more confident one for once, the initiator, but he finds he quite likes the role as Gavin leans into his touch, blinking owlishly at him.

“And I meant it when I said I don’t necessarily like Michael the _best_ ,” he replies. “I like all of you differently. And I missed _you_ , this whole time when we both got so busy.”

It seems like Gavin needed to hear that. His eyes are shining as he stares at Jeremy for a long moment before pressing into him and kissing him hard. Jeremy nearly falls backwards, startled by the sudden movement - Gavin’s clutching his shirt now, pressing their lips together almost desperately, and when his surprise fades Jeremy’s hands go to his hips to steady him, tugging him closer against him.

There’s something surreal about making out up here in the grass, the sea breeze tugging at their hair and clothes - Gavin’s skin sun-warm and the waves crashing rhythmically against the cliff under them, like the pulsing throb of some enormous heart. After a moment, Jeremy lowers himself back against the grass, Gavin catching himself on top of him - he lowers his head to press kisses to the side of Jeremy’s neck, and Jeremy lets his head fall back, gasping as Gavin’s teeth scrape against the side of his throat. He clutches at the back of Gavin’s thighs where the other man’s straddling him and feels Gavin shiver.

The sun’s right behind him. When Jeremy tries to sit up to kiss him again, it hits him right in the eyes. He squints and Gavin pulls back with a laugh.

“What are you pulling that face for?” he demands, a bit indignantly.

“The sun’s behind you!” Jeremy protests.

Gavin scoffs. He scrounges about behind him and picks up his sunglasses before turning and putting them on Jeremy’s face.

“There, is that better?” he asks. Jeremy can only shake his head, scoffing.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he says, and Gavin dissolves into a fit of giggles. Jeremy rolls his eyes, but he’s glad to see him so happy, and he soon shuts up when Jeremy tugs him back down and kisses him again.

It’s the first time it’s been just the two of them, Jeremy realises at some point. All the other times, Michael was there, too.

That makes him nervous suddenly. He slows down, gripping Gavin’s arms instead and holding him still, pressing their lips together more gently, taking his time - Gavin seems confused, but after a moment he relaxes, movements growing less frantic, until eventually they stop making out altogether and end up lying huddled together instead, Gavin’s head tugged into the crook of Jeremy’s neck, Jeremy’s arms wrapped around him. Things fizzled out a bit, and it’s a little strange, but Jeremy can’t quite bring himself to mind - there’ll be time enough to continue later, and Gavin seems content to just lie there hugging him, cuddled close to his side on the warm grass, breathing slowly to the rhythmic sound of the sea.

\---

**Geoff: (private)  
** Hey, you seen Ray anywhere?

**Jeremy:  
** No… I actually haven’t seen him at all since we got here, even around the house.

**Geoff:  
** He’s been sleeping in the house but he must leave at dawn every day to avoid us

**Geoff:  
** No clue what he’s been eating

**Geoff:  
** Maybe like. Insects and bugs and shit

**Geoff:  
** Hopefully not actual shit

**Jeremy:  
** Um, ok

**Jeremy:**  
Should we be worried?  
  
**Geoff:  
** Oh no! No, no, it’s totally fine, just wondering if you’d seen him around since I haven’t. Don’t worry about anything.

**Jeremy:**  
See, you always say that, but then things escalate!

**Geoff:  
** I know I brought you all to this island but tbh i just wanted you all to stop blowing up my fucking city. The cleanup was getting tedious

**Geoff:  
** I’m not worried about any of this, it’ll blow over. There’s always drama between the lads and it always ends in them hate-fucking and making up

**Geoff:  
** So the island helps with that too. trapped together in an enclosed space and all

**Geoff:  
** 8=D (  (  |

**Jeremy:  
** I really do not know what to say to that

**Geoff:  
** hahahahaha

**Geoff:  
** Hey, come to dinner with Jack and I! We’re gonna have a fish fry in about half an hour out on the deck

**Geoff:  
** Ryan might also be there

**Jeremy:  
** I’d love to :’)

\---

**Ryan: (private)  
** We should definitely go skurfing tomorrow, weather permitting.

**Jeremy:  
** Yes! From what you said it sounds like so much fun.

**Jeremy:  
** If you get it set up, text me, I have no plans to do anything

**Ryan:  
** None of us have plans… we are just trapped here until Geoff deems everything to have sufficiently blown over.

**Jeremy:  
** Haha, true

**Ryan:  
** By the way, and speaking of being trapped...

**Ryan:  
** Have you ever read/seen Agatha Christie’s ‘And Then There Were None?’ 

**Jeremy:  
** Yes, and I don’t like where this is going…

**Ryan:  
** >:)

\---

**Jeremy:** **(mature adults)  
** I think Ryan’s getting bored… pretty sure he just hinted he was planning to start murdering us all...

**Jack:  
** I’m sure you can find something to keep him occupied!

**Jeremy:  
** Why do I have to?

**Geoff:  
** Because Jack and I have plans tomorrow

**Geoff:  
** we’re gonna fuck in a boat

**Jack:  
** Geoff!

**Jeremy:  
** :O

**Geoff:  
** It’s like car sex but with a 200% greater chance of capsizing and drowning

**Geoff:**  
Car sex sucks tbh

**Jeremy:  
** Okay… have fun with that, I guess

**Jeremy:  
** Hopefully you won’t come back to find Ryan laughing maniacally over the rest of our corpses

**Jack:**  
I’m sure he’s just messing with you, Jeremy. You know how he gets. He’ll probably get distracted by something in the jungle, or work on one of his sea vehicles. There’s plenty to do here.

**Geoff:  
** plenty of people to do as well :P

**Jack:  
** For God’s sake, Geoff

\---

**Gavin: (private)  
** Hey lil’ J, are you awake?

**Jeremy:  
** Yes, what’s up?

**Gavin:  
** Come to my room? 

Jeremy stares at the message for a long moment. In the dark of his room the phone screen, lit up with an eerie bluish glow, almost doesn’t seem real. His heart is pounding, and he’s half unsure if everything so far has just been a weird dream.

The words are innocent enough, but he knows the implications of them. Or maybe he’s reading too much into it - maybe Gavin just wants some genuine company. Some _comfort_. Who can tell?

He swallows hard.

_Excitement_ , he realises, that’s what this is. Not nerves. He’s wanted this for a long time, and now after all his efforts Gavin’s finally letting him in. It’s not anyone else he sent this to, after all. It’s Jeremy. Just Jeremy.

It’s nice to feel needed. He pulls on his jacket and steps out of bed.

The cabin is quiet and dark, everyone else asleep. Jeremy wonders absently if Ray’s back in his bed, if he snuck in late at night - no one’s gone to check, as far as he knows.

The entire house is filled with a gentle creaking in the wind, and the faint sound of the waves and the trees rustling outside. It’s colder here at night, and the wood floors are chilly. Jeremy uses the light of his phone as he creeps out into the hallway.

Gavin’s room is down the corridor from his. There’s nothing secretive about all this, but his footsteps still feel too loud as he pads across the hall. He feels unsure when he reaches the closed door, but he doesn’t give himself time to think about it. Just lifts his fist and raps gently.

As soon as he does, he hears the creak of another door opening behind him, and turns.

Michael’s standing in the open doorway of his own room, opposite Jeremy’s. He’s so pale that he looks like a ghost in the darkness - his robe’s hanging open, his hair mussed. He’s wearing his glasses - he usually only uses them to make reading easier, though he doesn’t really need them, thanks to the health benefits of immortality. They make him look younger somehow.

Their eyes meet, and Jeremy freezes. There’s a long, lingering, _awkward_ moment. Jeremy can’t figure out the look on Michael’s face. There’s something surreal to all this, maybe because it’s the middle of the night, and so dark, and he hasn’t seen Michael since the jungle and the fire and that time they talked but didn’t _talk_ , not really, not _properly._ Not the way he wants them to.

But Gavin opens the door, then, and Jeremy swallows and turns back to him. The angle of the hall means Gavin can’t see past him to where Michael’s watching them.

“You came,” Gavin whispers.

Jeremy wasn’t sure what he was expecting, why he felt so worried. But it’s just _Gavin_ , standing there in a loose t-shirt and boxer shorts, hair flat and messy, eyes tired. Gavin, whose face brightens like he really wasn’t sure Jeremy would come.

He doesn’t beckon Jeremy to the bed, or wink, or make a silly comment. Just smiles, and reaches out and tangles their fingers together - something childlike and innocent to the motion - and tugs Jeremy into the room with him. He doesn’t look back over his shoulder at the hallway, at Michael. The door shuts quietly behind them.

\---

Jeremy wakes just before dawn. It’s still dark, but he can hear the beginning screeches of the parrots in the jungle surrounding the cabin, the island around them slowly stirring to life.

Tucked up beside him, Gavin sleeps, curled in against Jeremy’s side. Jeremy strokes a hand through his hair and presses a kiss to his forehead before slipping out of bed and padding softly out into the kitchen.

The expansive windows of the cabin flood every room with greyish light. Somewhere upstairs, he can hear Geoff and Jack snoring thunderously. But aside from those, everything is so still that he feels like he’s moving alone through an old movie-

Which is why, when he enters the kitchen to find Ray in there, he may or may not let out a high pitched _shriek_ as he nearly jumps right out of his skin.

“Fuck!” Ray splutters, jumping too. He spews milk all over the floor as he spins around, guiltily. He was standing in the open door of the fridge, and now looks like a startled raccoon caught digging through the trash.

Jeremy can only stare. He’s not seen Ray in weeks now, and was already so unfamiliar with the other man that to encounter him unexpectedly like this is terribly awkward. For a moment, they gape at each other. Finally, Jeremy finds his voice.

“Are you drinking out of the fucking milk carton?” he demands.

Ray stares at the milk bottle in his hand. Then at the mess on the floor. Finally, he shrugs, and wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

“Oh my God, that’s the most unsanitary thing I’ve ever - _don’t put it back in the fridge!_ Jesus fucking Christ.”

“What’s the big deal?” Ray asks, as before Jeremy’s horrified eyes he replaces the milk without so much as giving the spout a courtesy wipe. “What, afraid of my cooties? Thought we were all one big group fuckfest anyway.”

“Well, _we’re_ not,” Jeremy splutters, gesturing between them. Ray just shrugs again, grabbing paper towels to clean off the floor. There’s another uncomfortable silence as Jeremy watches him. As his surprise fades, he registers exactly who he’s with, and steps forward.

“So,” he says, a touch awkwardly. “You have been around then? No one’s seen you.”

“Was trying to keep it that way, thanks.”

“Why? We’re here to sort out all our problems, aren’t we?” It sounds ridiculous as soon as he says it out loud, and Ray looks distinctly unimpressed as he gets up and chucks the soggy paper towels in the bin.

“Sure,” he replies. “Which is why it’s probably best if I stay out of Michael’s way. Easier for them to kiss and make up when I’m not lurking over their shoulders like the ghost of Christmas past, right?”

He grabs a box of leftover food from the fridge and stuffs it in his bag before marching out of the house via the kitchen door with nary another word.

Jeremy stares after him. Then, on a sudden impulse, grits his teeth and follows.

_I’m sick of this_ , he thinks, _I’m sick of people refusing to talk and make up and just_ assuming _that, in time, everything will blow over. It’s not gonna if we keep ignoring it! These people would be happy to wait five years in awkward silence before having a conversation. It’s fucking ridiculous._

He marches out of the house. It’s hotter outside than he expected, even with the morning sun barely whitening the sky. He hasn’t got shoes on, and the little path of stepping stones leading from the kitchen door through the shrubbery surrounding the house are warm under his bare feet. He realises he forgot shoes, but doesn’t want to lose Ray, who’s making his way along the trail that leads through the jungle down towards the beach.

Ray’s a little distance ahead. When he hears Jeremy following, he pauses.

“What the fuck do you want?” he demands, without turning around.

“To talk!” Jeremy snaps.

“Yeah, well, you can beat it.”

Jeremy ignores him, coming up by his side. He stares earnestly at Ray, and when the other man meets his eyes something flickers across his face. Like he can see how desperately Jeremy wants to know - to _help_.

“Dude,” Ray continues, something uncomfortable in his voice. “We don’t even know each other.”

“So maybe that’ll make it easier,” Jeremy argues. “What do you care what I think? You don’t! But _I_ care,” he urges, “I care about Michael and Gavin and… and what we all have here. And I want to fix it. And I want you to tell me what’s going on.”

Ray hesitates. He looks at Jeremy intently for a long, long moment.

Then he continues walking down towards the beach, hefting his bag over his shoulder. But he didn’t tell Jeremy to fuck off, didn’t say _no_ , so Jeremy swallows and continues to follow him.

\---

They sit out on a rock a little way into the shallows, looking out into the water. Ray’s put his hoodie over his head against the glare of the sun, risen high into the sky now. He’s rolled another cigarette and is smoking, restlessly.

Jeremy sits beside him, his bare feet dangling down and trailing in the water, counting the dead jellyfish washed up on the beach nearby. He waits, patiently.

Finally, Ray gives a rasping cough, then sighs.

  
“So,” he says, and for once in his life sounds almost _awkward,_ his usual disdain and boredom absent. “What do you want to know?”

Jeremy perks up, turning to him eagerly.

“Tell me about you and Michael,” he says.

Ray gives a tight smile. He blows out another stream of smoke before lining up a stray piece of gravel against the edge of the rock and flicking it out, watching it sink into the water below them.

“You know,” he comments instead, “You and Michael seem really close.”

“I met him first, out of all of them,” Jeremy begins, unsure - but Ray shakes his head.

“No, it’s different. I can see it - I _have_ seen it. Jack showed me some videos of you getting involved in their weird games, and I can see how he looks at you. He really likes you.”

Jeremy feels his cheeks heat. He looks away, a bit bashful - it’s one thing to guess at how Michael feels about him, another to hear someone else confirm it, especially someone who knows Michael so well. He isn’t quite sure what to think, whether Ray’s being snarky or if he’s annoyed or what - but Ray laughs, after a moment.

“I’m not jealous,” he assures him. “He loves all of them. We all love each other. But you two… you two are close, and because you’re so new - that must be special to you. That’s why you’re so worked up about this. I know if some big shit happened, some big break up, you’d be way more upset than any of us seem about all this. Right?”

Jeremy nods. He doesn’t think he could stand to break up with any of the others - couldn’t take it in stride the way they all seem to.

Ray sighs, and looks away, taking another agitated drag of his cigarette.

“We broke up,” he says, bluntly. “Michael and I. We never had before - we’ve been together since years before we became immortal. We were always with each other, even when the others came in and out of the relationship. Gavin. Ryan. Geoff and Jack. Always the two of us, through it all.”

Jeremy listens, intently. Ray’s face is carefully blank.

“But then we broke up,” he continues, stiffly. “So, I left.”

“What happened?” Jeremy whispers.

Ray opens his mouth. Then hesitates, and shakes his head.

“I think Michael should tell you that,” he says, and looks at Jeremy again, something considering in it. “Do you trust him?”

Jeremy nods without hesitation. Even after everything, even with Michael pushing him out - he barely needs to think about it.

“Then I’ll let him tell you his side of the story first,” Ray says. “He deserves not to have it skewed by my version.”

Jeremy’s a little taken aback. It seems an odd and remarkably selfless decision.

“He never told any of the others what happened,” he begins, uncertainly. “He’d get so annoyed that they just… stopped mentioning you. So I… I don’t know if he even _will_ tell me. I’ve asked a bunch of times and he just refuses. And if he wouldn’t tell the _others_ , for eight fucking _years_ \- why would he tell me?”

Ray hums.

“Like you said,” he points out. “Maybe it’s easier to tell someone you don’t know as well.”

Jeremy can’t help but smile a little, and after a moment Ray smiles back. 

“I don’t dislike you, Jeremy,” he comments, rather flippantly. “I just don’t get all buddy-buddy with people I don’t know very well.”

Jeremy can’t help but laugh. Truth be told, he’d assumed Ray was as put off by him as he’d been by the other man. But things feel different, with the two of them here alone.

“Jack said you disliked Gav at first,” he can’t help pointing out, and Ray snorts.

“When we first met, he was drunk off his ass and like, wearing this stupid bacon scarf? It was ridiculous,” he says, and chuckles a bit when Jeremy laughs just at the mental image. “He was an asshole. Super fucked up, but still an asshole.”

“You know he’s upset you didn’t seem to miss him after you left,” Jeremy says, softly, even through his amusement. He can’t help but remember how agitated Gavin got about it. Thinks about him sleeping soundly back at the cabin - thinks, guiltily, about how he might feel when he wakes up alone and realises Jeremy left. 

“Gavin takes things too personally,” Ray replies, dismissively.

“Ray.” The stern note in his own voice startles him. He sounds like Geoff, when he gets properly annoyed. “He’s upset.”

Ray raises his eyebrows - but when he realises Jeremy is serious, he sighs, and runs his hand through his hair.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. I’ll talk to him after he and Michael sort things out. Don’t wanna make Michael even more jealous, after all.”

“Oh, right,” Jeremy says, and bites his lip. “All those photos…”

Ray gives another grim chuckle.

“Gavin insisted on taking those. They were so fucking awkward, though. We barely even talked while we went out and did all this stupid shit together. He wasn’t even that into it - just wanted to mess with Michael. I don’t know why I went along with it.”

“What about Ryan?”

_That_ name makes Ray hesitate.

“Ryan acts aloof,” he says, slowly. “But he probably cares the most out of all of us, even if he doesn’t show it. He’s been alive a long time. Saw a lot of people come and go. But he’s stayed with us since he met us. I think he needs it - not to be alone.”

Jeremy nods, slowly. There’s a long pause - the waves are quite still and calm today, and the silence is unsettling. After a moment, Ray stubs the remains of his cigarette out against the rock.

"Will you stay?” Jeremy asks, softly.

Ray looks away.

“Depends how things go here,” he mutters.

“The others want you,” Jeremy says. He’s not sure where the words come from, why he’s saying them. Why he means them so much. “Not just Michael. Gavin, and Ryan, and all of them. They want you here.”

“And how about you?” the mocking note is back in Ray’s voice. _A defence mechanism_ , Jeremy can’t help thinking, too used to seeing it in Gavin and Michael by now. “Don’t you want me to go? You’d have the others all to yourself!”

“It doesn’t work like that, I think,” Jeremy replies. He’s not sure how to say it, but he can tell - there’s too much history with Ray. But they were all new once - Gavin was, too, and look at him now. He’ll make his place here with the others whether Ray’s around or not.

Ray makes a little disbelieving noise.

“I mean it,” Jeremy insists. “I don’t mind. Besides, it… it might be nice getting to know someone new.”

Ray laughs, but it’s not a mean laugh, and after a moment Jeremy smiles. He does mean it. Maybe it’s because of how he’s gotten closer to Gavin, or any of the others - but he really doesn’t mind it.

“Michael won’t tell me what’s going on though,” he repeats, worriedly.

“He will, trust me,” Ray assures him. “Give it time. For now, enjoy being here. Get closer to the others.”

“What about you?” Jeremy asks. “You must miss them.”

Ray doesn’t deny it. But he shakes his head.

“I’ll wait,” he says, and shrugs. “Michael will only get more upset if he sees me hanging around getting close to everyone.”

So he does care about Michael after all, Jeremy thinks. And Michael must care, too, to get jealous. He opens his mouth to reply, but his phone buzzes in his pocket before he can.

 

**Ryan: (private)  
** The waves are looking good round the front of the island. Ready to skurf?

 

Jeremy looks up to find Ray watching him. He hesitates a bit awkwardly, but Ray laughs.

“Go on, go and have fun,” he says. “I’ll stay here.”

It feels almost mean to leave him there alone, knowing he’s gonna have to isolate himself until all this shit is sorted out. But things went so much better today that Jeremy can’t help but think it’s a start, and it’s nice to see another side of Ray - a side that cares, that’s trying in his own weird way to help the others. He smiles back, and gets up, and goes to meet Ryan.

\---

“I take it the boat sex didn’t go so well?” Jeremy laughs.

He and Ryan are walking up from the beach. The sand is sticking to their wetsuits uncomfortably, but their faces are flushed and exhilarated, their hand wildly windswept - they had a great time, and Jeremy can feel the adrenaline still rushing through his blood. 

Jack and Geoff, trudging towards them, just look drenched and rather miserable.

“You win some, you lose some,” Geoff replies. His hair is lank, plastered across his face. It wouldn’t be such a big deal that he’s soaking if he wasn’t just in regular clothes rather than a swimsuit. “I need a fucking shower beer.”

“No shower fucking,” Jack cuts in. “Had enough water for one day, thanks.”

Jeremy can’t help dissolving into a fit of giggles at the sight of the two of them. Geoff casts him a mock-scowl.

“Oh, shut up,” he says. “What were you two doing out on the water?”

“Skurfing,” Jeremy replies, and Geoff pulls a needlessly horrible face.

“Looks like you had a good time,” Jack says, smiling at him. Jeremy smiles back, and Jack turns to Ryan, standing just over Jeremy’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re taking good care of him while the rest of the lads are all sulking around.”

Jeremy glances back at Ryan to find him smirking. Jack moves up to him and wraps a hand around Ryan’s neck, pulling him into a quick kiss. It seems quite sudden, but Jeremy remembers how often he’s seen the two of them together since they came to this island. Ryan’s hand comes up, cupping Jack’s cheek gently for a moment. They smile at each other when they pull apart, then Jack turns and looks at Jeremy, who may or may not be staring at them.

Their eyes meet, and Jack steps in slowly. Jeremy’s heart is pounding, but he leans up into Jack’s touch when the other man gently tugs him forward, pressing their lips together. The kiss is brief, almost chaste, but somehow still thrilling - Jeremy’s imagined this before, how the other man might bend down towards him, what his large warm hands would feel like, the scratch of his beard.

Jack’s grinning at him when they pull apart, but Jeremy can see the faint nervousness in his eyes. It fades when Jeremy smiles back at him - he’s breathing heavily, and his heart is thrumming in his chest, but an exhilarating happiness has taken over him. Like everything’s fallen into place.

“No fair!” Geoff cries, behind Jack. He shoulders him out of the way and his hands land roughly on Jeremy’s shoulders, tugging him in. He gives the briefest pause before their lips actually touch, waiting - Jeremy closes the distance between them without even thinking about it. This kiss is brief too, but fiercely passionate. Jeremy’s head is reeling by the time Geoff pulls back. 

The other man claps him on the back, winks at him, then declares, “See you at dinner!” before promptly leaving, grumbling about how cold and wet he is, as easily as they arrived.

Jeremy stares after them. He licks his lips a bit nervously.

“That was…”

“Sudden?” Ryan asks, an amused note in his voice. “Surely you saw it coming.”

“Yeah, but… it happened a bit out of the blue!” He realises he’s grinning, and can’t quite stop.

“What, do you need a candlelit dinner first?” Ryan asks. For a moment Jeremy thinks he’s being snarky, but when he looks up at Ryan, he’s smiling. “Because I can arrange one, if the skurfing wasn’t enough.”

_Oh,_ Jeremy thinks - his grin widens.

“The skurfing was just fine,” he manages, a little surprised by how steady his voice remains, even if inside he’s giddy with excitement.

“Good,” Ryan says, and then he’s leaning in and kissing Jeremy too. It’s everything he’s imagined, probably far too many times and in far too much detail. Intense, the way everything about Ryan is - centuries of experience in the way he confidently angles Jeremy’s head to one side, his thumb pressing in just under his jaw. He must be able to feel Jeremy’s pulse, pounding and pounding away.

Jeremy feels suddenly shy, flustered almost - lets Ryan easily takes control. Feels weak at the fucking knees when the other man’s hand slides around to the back of his neck, tugging him in even closer. He’s breathless by the time they pull apart, and lets himself fall forward, resting his head against Ryan’s chest.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, and huffs a laugh into the other man’s shoulder - Ryan wraps his arms easily around him in a loose hug. “Everything… everything’s moving a bit fast.”

“Too fast?” Ryan asks, a note of concern in his voice.

“No, it’s… it’s good,” Jeremy assures him, and looks up, meeting his eyes. Ryan’s smiling at him with the same fond affection he always shows the others. It feels warm and familiar, like a blanket wrapping around him.

“Gavin’s sulking around somewhere,” Ryan continues then, pulling back a little and looking back over his shoulder at the house. “I was gonna go spend the evening with him. Give him a nice time. You could come along - I think he’d like to see you.”

“If you two’d rather be alone…”

“No, I think it’d make it an even better treat if you were there,” Ryan says.

“Oh,” Jeremy replies, a little taken aback. “Okay, then.”

Ryan laughs, and grabs his hand, pulling him towards the house.

“I probably spoil him too much,” he says. “Come on, then. He’s probably by the pool again.”

\---

Gavin is indeed by the pool. He’s playing an odd game of catching snails from the surrounding ferns and putting them on big leaves and making them sail around.

The way his face lights up when he sees Jeremy makes him smile, his heart skipping a beat as it’s confirmed once again that Gavin really does want him around here. Ryan brings ice cream, and beer, and whipped cream from the house, and they make floats. At some point Gavin pushes Ryan into the pool, and then Jeremy kicks Gavin in after him, and before they know it there’s a full-on splash war going on. They don’t talk about anything too deep, and no one deliberately drowns anyone else, and it’s nice just to forget everything for a little bit.

Finally, as the sun sinks, they lie by the poolside on a couple of deckchairs dragged together - draped on top of one another, too much bare skin pressed against each other since they’re all just in their swim shorts. Jeremy’s on top of where the deckchairs join - the ‘crev,’ as Gavin calls it - he’s a bit worried about falling off, but Ryan doesn’t seem to mind if he keeps an arm flung over his waist.

Gavin’s in the middle. Some time ago Ryan started kissing his neck, lazily, where his head’s resting in the crook of Gavin’s shoulder. Gavin’s eyes have fluttered shut, lips parting occasionally as Ryan mouths absently at his skin, sucking little hickies into his throat.

Ryan’s arm’s pressed against Jeremy’s, warm from the sun. Jeremy can feel him, shifting now and then as he gets a better angle. After a moment, he looks over and locks eyes with Jeremy. Jeremy swallows, feeling a bit awkward for staring - but Ryan just leans up on his elbows and pulls him in for another kiss, over the top of Gavin. It’s slow this time, steady and more familiar, and now that he’s not so nervous, Jeremy can enjoy it even more.

When they pull apart, Gavin’s big green eyes have opened, and he’s watching them like a judgmental cat.

“Lil’ J,” he declares, suddenly. “You left this morning!”

“I did, I’m sorry,” Jeremy admits, the guilt flooding back in a bit. “I was gonna come back, but I saw Ray and went to talk to him.”

He sees the surprise flicker across Gavin’s face.

“Ray?” he asks, and sits up a bit. Ryan pulls him backwards to sit in his lap, a comfortable, easy motion, and ducks his head to keep kissing his shoulder. Jeremy stares at him, a little affronted since, y’know, he’s trying to have a fucking conversation with Gavin here - but doesn’t comment.

“What’s Ray want with you?” Gavin continues.

“It was me who approached him, actually,” Jeremy says. “I wanted to talk to him - wanted to know what happened with him and Michael. So I can fix it. I want to fix things between you and Michael, too.” Gavin’s eyes narrow, but Jeremy pushes on. “But Michael won’t talk to me.”

Gavin pouts. He looks rather bitter suddenly, and Jeremy leans forward, resting a hand on Gavin’s knee.

“Hey, come on, Gav,” he says. “I want _all of us_ to be together. All of us includes you. Besides - I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Gavin relaxes a little - especially when Jeremy shifts forward and kisses him again. It’s strange, with Ryan so close, knowing the other man’s looking on - but Gavin seems perfectly happy to be sandwiched between the two of them, and Jeremy shivers when Ryan reaches around and rests his hand easily on Jeremy’s leg, squeezing gently. Gavin looks flustered when they pull apart, and Jeremy keeps one hand on his waist, thumb rubbing soothing circles against the dip of his hipbone.

“And what did you learn from Ray?” Gavin asks.

“Not much,” Jeremy replies. “Just that they broke up. He wants me to talk to Michael and hear his side first.”

“Hmmm,” Gavin says. He tilts his head, and Ryan takes advantage of the opportunity to start kissing his neck again. One hand’s still on Jeremy’s knee, the other sliding around Gavin’s stomach. Gavin’s paying little attention to him other than leaning into his touch now and then. “I might have something to add to that.”

“What?” Jeremy asks, straightening up. “You know something about what happened? You said you didn’t know anything!”

Gavin shrugs, overly nonchalant, and Jeremy can only stare at him, shocked and a bit appalled. Gavin starts to laugh at the look on his face, but breaks off with a muffled hiss when Ryan bites at the juncture of his shoulder. The other man’s eyes are lidded and dark as he gazes at the side of Gavin’s face.

“Little snake,” he chides, though he doesn’t sound particularly bothered.

“I need to keep some secrets,” Gavin replies, flippantly. “For insurance. It’s nothing big or drastic. But maybe it can help you talk to Michael.”

“What is it?” Jeremy demands.

“I thought you were here to pay attention to me,” Gavin points out. “Not talk about him.”

Jeremy grits his teeth. He can tell it’s a challenge - but he also knows the spoiled brat act is just that, an _act_. Gavin can be an asshole, but he’s been upset lately, too. And Michael’s not going anywhere - they’re all stuck on this island. There’ll be time to talk to him later.

Ryan doesn’t seem to care at all about this new information. He’s still lazily tracing circles over Gavin’s stomach with his fingers, and on a sudden impulse, Jeremy grabs Gavin and yanks him forward onto his lap instead. Ryan looks surprised to lose him, and Gavin gives a startled little yelp as he catches himself, clinging to Jeremy’s shoulders as he’s suddenly left straddling him.

Jeremy kisses him hard, hands coming up to tangle in Gavin’s hair, tugging until his head’s angled in the position he wants him. Gavin lets out a muffled groan into Jeremy’s mouth, and that’s kinda the hottest thing ever - Jeremy pulls him closer, roughly, and feels Gavin’s hands clutch his shoulders harder - but a moment later he softens, and loosens his grip in Gavin’s hair, stroking more gently. When he finally breaks away and looks up, Ryan’s watching contentedly and Gavin looks breathless and a little shocked.

"As much as I would _love_ to beat Geoff in ‘weird places to bang,’ this deck chair is not great,” Jeremy says, and Ryan laughs.

“Bad for the back,” he says.

Gavin swallows, audibly, before reaching up and smoothing a trembling hand through his hair, clearly trying to regain a bit of control here.

“Carry me to the bedroom,” he orders, flinging out an imperious arm.

Ryan rises and grabs him, slinging him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and drawing a furious squawk.

“Of course, your highness,” Ryan drawls.

“You’re horrid,” Gavin says, “I wish Jeremy had done it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there,” Jeremy assures him, getting up too and pinching Gavin’s cheek. He screws his face up as Ryan carries him inside, Jeremy laughing after them.

He’s the last to leave, dragging the deck chairs back to their original positions. Before heading inside he glances over the edge of the building, and freezes.

Michael’s standing down on the beach a little way away. He’s clearly spying on them - there’s a direct view of the pool from there, since the cabin house is set up on a hill and there’s no wall, just sloping jungle leading down to the coastline. And there is Michael, standing down on the sand, staring up at them. He’s got a canister of gasoline in one hand and a bottle of beer dangling from the other, which, okay, what the fuck. It’s kind of creepy.

But Jeremy swallows, and ignores it, and turns away to follow the others in.

\---

“Thank you,” Gavin says later.

The sun’s starting to set by now. Ryan’s got the whole post-sex cigarette thing down pat. He looks very vintage. He’s also standing starkers by the window with a glass of whiskey in his other hand, looking out at the fantastic view of the sunset over the ocean.

Jeremy’s staring at him and enjoying his own fantastic view - but he turns to Gavin now. The other man’s reclining in the bed. He’s strategically draped sheets around himself and looks a bit like a woman from some Renaissance painting. Flushed and dishevelled is a good look on him.

“For what?” Jeremy asks. “For what we just…?”

“Oh, no, not that,” Gavin clarifies. “Although that was good too. No, I meant, thanks for not asking right away what I was going to tell you. That way I know you weren’t just, you know. Using me for information.”

By the window, Ryan gives a raspy chuckle.

“For God’s sake, Gavin,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re not in some sort of spy movie. It’s _Jeremy_.”

Gavin scowls, and picks up his sunglasses, putting them on. Jeremy immediately reaches out and takes them off again.

“Of course that’s not why,” he assures Gavin.

Gavin smiles. Then benevolently lays a hand on Jeremy’s cheek.

“I will now deliver the information like an NPC whose quest you have completed,” he says, solemnly.

Jeremy laughs a bit, but it fades quickly when Gavin continues.

“Michael and Ray never killed each other,” he says. “Not once. Not in games or on heists or for fun. Michael once told me they’d agreed they never would.”

It’s such a simple, almost obvious statement, yet somehow it’s a piece that Jeremy was missing, that fills in another bit of the puzzle.

“But when they broke up…” he begins.

“I don’t know for sure,” Gavin says. “But they went out one day, and then only Michael came back. And then we didn’t see Ray for eight years. Michael just said they’d had a fight. Maybe it’s nothing,” he adds, but Jeremy shakes his head.

“No, that’s… that’s more than I knew before,” Jeremy says, absently. He can’t stop thinking, now, puzzling this out. He remembers how easily Michael kills them all in their games - but how different it was that time he shot Gavin. How much _worse_ it was. How it felt filled with hate. How they haven’t spoken to each other since.

He shakes himself.

“Thank you,” he says, and leans forward, pressing a kiss to Gavin’s stomach. The other man squirms and giggles, batting him away.

“Go talk to him now, if you want,” he says. “I won’t be offended.”

“Really?” Jeremy asks. “You sure?”

Gavin nods. Ryan’s already wandering back over to sit on the bed next to him, so Jeremy gets up and pulls his clothes back on. He hesitates, wondering if he should say something else - but it’s already about to get dark outside, so he turns and heads out and goes to find Michael.

\---

“Michael?” Jeremy calls out, uncertainly.

He knows the other man’s here in the jungle, somewhere. His footprints were still in the sand, leading from the beach towards the treeline. But it’s getting dark, now, and his phone’s fairly low in battery.

He’s following the vague trail that leads between the trees, pushing his way through low ferns and shrubs, when he notices a faint, familiar orange glow in the distance. A vague worry churns in his stomach, and he moves towards it.

The trail emerges into a clearing. Flickering bits of fire ring the open area, trees and bushes set alight. The jungle’s pretty wet, so it’s not spreading too quickly, but there are still areas that are burning furiously. Michael’s on the opposite end of the area. He’s climbing up a series of boulders that line one edge of the clearing, his canister of petrol still hanging from one hand. As Jeremy watches, he pulls himself up onto a ridge overlooking the area, pours another lot of petrol down after himself, and then lights a match with his teeth John Bender style before dropping it down. The twigs and dead leaves scattered across the ground flare up and Jeremy steps back, flinging an arm up to shield his face from the heat.

“What the fuck, Michael!” he yells. “Don’t burn the whole island down, come on! What are you _doing_?”

Michael glances over his shoulder, and sneers at him. With his face lit up red in the flickering firelight, he looks like some hellish demon.

“What the fuck do you care?” he screams back. “Go back to fucking Gavin! That’s what you’ve been doing, right?”

“Just because you’re upset with him doesn’t mean I am, too,” Jeremy shoots back. He takes a deep breath, trying to stay calm - begins to inch forward, arms up to avoid the flames. “But why won’t you just _tell me what happened?”_

“What does it matter?”

“It matters because you’re acting like this!” Jeremy cries. “You’re burning shit down, you _killed Gavin-_ ”

“He _came back,”_ Michael spits. “What does it _fucking_ matter?”

“He’s upset!” Jeremy shoots back. He takes another cautious step forward and flinches when a burning branch crashes down from a tree behind him. “He told me why he was acting this way lately and I… I really think you guys should talk it out. Look, this started out ‘cause of miscommunication and it went way too fucking far. And _this_ is going too far!” 

He throws a hand around, gesturing at their burning surroundings - the trees turning to blackened skeletons around them, the sky streaked red and grey with smoke. Michael’s eyes dart around too, but he says nothing.

“I talked to Ray too,” Jeremy pleads. He’s close to the cliff now, neck craned back to look up at Michael. “He told me he wanted you to tell me your side first. What _happened_ , Michael?”

Michael’s silent a long moment, staring into the flames. Finally he looks down at Jeremy.

“Why the fuck are you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?” he growls. “If you’re such good friends with Ray and Gavin, just go hang around them! Who cares about the rest of it?”

“Michael-”

He breaks off as Michael suddenly turns away. He runs across the ledge and leaps to another platform higher up on the cliff wall, pulling himself up and away. Gritting his teeth, Jeremy begins to climb the boulders, scrambling after him as fast as he can. He can feel the fire, hot against his back.

“Michael!” he screams again, the frustration spilling out in his voice now. “ _Talk to me_ , Michael! I fucking hate this, alright? I hate everyone being angry with each other, and how upset you are, and how no one’s _talking_. And I know you’re hurt, okay? I can see it! But let me help!”

He stumbles and feels the rocks graze his bare knees. He’s still wearing shorts, and his arms are burning from the climb. Michael’s still walking away from him, picking his way across the other platform.

“Michael, _please_ \- I want to help, I-” He slips but catches himself, pulling himself up onto the top of the final ledge. “I love you!”

It bursts out. He’s just so desperate by this point, and he can’t really breathe right with all the smoke in the air, and if Michael vanishes into the darkness he’s not sure he’ll be able to follow. But that stops Michael in his tracks. He sees the other man freeze, stiffening, and turn minutely over his shoulder.

God, Jeremy should’ve just stopped there. But instead he blathers on, the words spilling out before he can think better of them.

“Who killed who?” he asks. “You or Ray?”

Michael’s face clouds over again. He turns away to leave again, and Jeremy desperately runs forward and tries to jump over to the other ledge.

He falls short.

For a second, his feet connect with the very edge of the platform, but then he’s sliding down, nothing but empty ground under his feet. With a wild yell, he scrabbles to hold onto something, anything, and manages to grip a protruding tree root.

For a dizzying moment he swings there, nothing but open air under him, gravel and dirt crumbling from the edge of the rocky ledge. Then there’s a sudden great _crash_ as another tree topples to the ground and sends the fire flaring up as more of the ground sets alight. Sparks shower over Jeremy, making him hiss and flinch as they spit over his skin.

_Holy shit_ , he thinks. His grip slips on the tree root, his hands sweaty. Even worse, he can feel it starting to pull from the ground. He dares to look down, and his stomach drops as he sees nothing but a sea of fire below.

Dangling there, he’s quite certain he is going to fall and burn alive.

Fear and horror flood through him. That’s not an instant death - it’s a slow one, a horribly _painful_ one, and though he’s been shot and exploded a dozen times before, there’s always someone to put him out of his misery, or it happens so quickly he’s dead in a second. This - this is something he hasn’t experienced before, even since he came back from the dead. 

He’s _scared_ , more scared than he’s been in a long time, and he desperately scrabbles to get a better grip on the ledge.

“ _Michael!”_ he screams.

The other man turns, and freezes as he notices Jeremy. 

Time seems to still. For a moment all he can do is stare into Michael’s eyes. They’re huge and dark and _haunted_ , the flickering flames and burnt skeletons of the trees reflected in them. There’s something about the look on his face that makes Jeremy think the other man isn’t quite here, is seeing something else entirely.

Then Michael shakes himself.

He darts forward and comes to the edge, reaching down and gripping Jeremy’s arms, dragging him up to safety. Jeremy blindly clings to him, focused on nothing except getting onto solid ground. When Michael hauls him over the edge he could almost sob in relief, clutching the other man’s arms as Michael pulls him further and further onto the platform, before they finally slump down against the rock wall, a safe distance from the edge. The fires burn higher and brighter below them, and Jeremy tries to take slow breaths. His heart’s pounding, and he can’t stop shaking. Every breath comes too fast.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses. He realises Michael’s staring at him - sitting close by his side, and Jeremy’s still clutching his arm in a deathgrip. He lets go, embarrassed suddenly. “Sorry, I… I got scared. Still don’t like pain all that much.”

He expects Michael to make some mocking comment - but the other man just puts an arm around him, and tugs him closer. Jeremy hugs him gratefully - he knows the other man must be able to feel him shaking, but he can’t help it. He buries his face in Michael’s shoulder and hears him take a hitching breath.

“I’m sorry,” Michael says, abruptly. “You’re not part of this. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“I am part of it,” Jeremy cuts in. “I _am_. We all are.” And then, desperately, “ _Please_.”

Michael squeezes him tighter for a moment, then pulls back and leans back against the sloping wall formed by the cliff behind them. He tilts his head back, and Jeremy sees him swallow hard, his eyes trained up at the smoke-streaked sky. He waits - and finally, finally Michael speaks.

“We’d been with the crew for years by that point,” he says. “We knew each other since before. We sold our souls together. We were like Geoff and Jack. In-fucking-separable. The others came in, and out, but we were always together.”

He clears his throat, reaching up to swipe at his eyes. They’re watering from the smoke. Jeremy’s are too, stinging and burning.

“But I… I went through a period where I… I think everyone gets one at some point. The weight of being immortal, of lacking that _something,”_ he clutches at his chest, desperately, “It starts to bear down on you. I planned this string of heists. Big ones. Violent ones. Lots of fire - lots of explosions. Lots of… of collateral.”

Jeremy bites his lip. Michael’s not looking at him, staring up at the sky.

“Geoff thought I would draw too much attention to us. But I… I couldn’t be stopped, I guess. I just needed to feel _something_. Something that, in that moment, I thought Ray couldn’t give me. He kept trying to put me off doing it, and I got upset with him for not supporting me.”

He lowers his head, staring out at the fire, the burning trees, and forces out through his teeth - a low growl - “ _Can’t you see I need_ _this.”_

Jeremy bites his lip. He wants to touch Michael, but can’t move suddenly, frozen. Michael huffs out a laugh, and lets his head thud back against the wall again.

“The day before the hit, I got a call from Ray asking me to come out to the mountains around Achievement City. I knew some sort of talk was coming, expected a lecture or some shit. But when we got there, the look on his face… it wasn’t the Ray I knew. He looked… he didn’t look like he loved me anymore. It just wasn’t _there_.”

There’s raw pain in his voice now, as he raises it to be heard over the loud crackling of the fire.

“We had an enormous fight. He said I wasn’t human. I told him none of us are. He said since I lost my soul I’d lost everything else too. Become freakish and mean. I don’t remember who threw the first punch. Somewhere in the middle we said we hated each other, that we were breaking up. I _did_ hate him in that moment, I think. I hated him for not seeming to see that I really needed this, needed to _feel_ something here. Hated him for making me feel even more like a soulless fucking freak.

“We fought. We were both hitting each other - it got really vicious. We’d never been like this before. We played killing games, you’ve seen them - but Ray and I never killed each other. It was just an understanding we had.”

He looks away, fists clenching at his sides.

“At some point, we both went over the side of the mountain,” he continues, and Jeremy’s breath catches. “I thought we’d both die. But I caught some rocks and pulled myself to safety. Ray was just hanging there - he couldn’t get back up. He looked up at me. God,” he says, and lets out a bitter laugh. “I’ll never forget the look on his face.”

“You…”

Jeremy trails off, remembering the position he was in just then.

Michael’s shaking. He finally turns to look at Jeremy. His eyes are nearly entirely red from the smoke in the air.

“I stamped on his fucking fingers and watched him fall,” he says.

Jeremy stares at him, breathless and horrified. He doesn’t know what to say. Michael turns away, looking back out at the burning jungle.

“Michael…” Jeremy whispers finally, but can’t think of anything else. 

“He left,” Michael blurts out. “I was still furious. I still am, kind of… I don’t fucking know. Sometimes I hate myself. Sometimes I still hate _him_. He never came back, never said goodbye. Just texted me a picture of his plane ticket and then he was gone. I never told the others what happened. Didn’t end up doing the heist. And that was it, for eight fucking years. If he’d wanted me to contact him, he’d’ve reached out first-”

He breaks off, voice cracking a little, before swiping angrily at his face, streaked with tears and ash and grime.

Jeremy has no idea what to say. He thinks of everything that’s happened, and how everything seems to have reached a head, pieces of the puzzle falling into place. That first dark silhouette of Ray in the photo Gavin sent, cast in shadow, unsmiling. Michael standing in the waves back in Achievement City, throwing stones. The vicious motion of how he drew his gun and shot Gavin. The look on his face as Jeremy hung out over the fire, pleading and desperate and wanting nothing more than to help Michael, to save him.

It’s hard to breathe. Everything’s thick and hot. Michael doesn’t seem to notice - staring out, lost in the flames. For once Jeremy has no clever advice, no comfort to bring.

“The fire,” he chokes out, finally. His voice is shaking. The flames are eating away at the trees, though not spreading as fast as he might’ve expected. The wind’s blowing towards the water, so the house is quite safe. “We should… we should do something.”

Michael laughs, bitter and rasping. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it with trembling hands. Tilts his head back and watches his own breathy stream of smoke streak into the sky and join the rest of the bloody light.

“It’ll burn itself out,” he says. “They always do.”


	4. Chapter 4

The nauseating smell of smoke lingers heavily in the air as Jeremy and Michael make their way back to the house. It’s dark by now, but the dim glow of embers is still visible in the jungle behind them when Jeremy looks back over his shoulder. Still - the fire’s mostly burnt out, and only a small patch of trees were destroyed. Even so, he knows Geoff is probably going to yell at them when they get back.

Michael doesn’t seem to care. They’re walking in silence, have been since leaving - but close together, their hands brushing now and then as they move.

It’s late, and after all that’s happened Jeremy feels tired, and still a little shaky from the danger and adrenaline. There’s a tight heaviness in his chest - or maybe that’s just the smoke stuck in his lungs. Who knows at this point.

As they approach the house, Jeremy frowns. He can hear the faint whirring of helicopter blades, and as they round the beach and see the house ahead of them, he notices that all the floodlights in the drive are on, some great commotion of sound and light happening. He exchanges a glance with Michael, and they jog over.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he calls out.

There’s a helicopter on the large landing pad in the circular drive in front of the house. Its lights are on, ready to go - Jeremy can see Ryan in the driver’s seat through the windscreen. His jacket and mask are on again, a dark skull behind the glass.

Geoff, Jack and Gavin are gathered out the front of the house. Gavin’s lingering close by the doors, arms wrapped around himself, a blank look on his face. He’s still just in his boxers, but has a jacket on against the faint bite in the air as night falls. It’s hanging off his shoulders - probably Ryan’s.

Nearby, Geoff and Jack are talking closely, Geoff leaning in with his hand on Jack’s arm. He’s back in his suit - this entire holiday he’s cycled through a rainbow of various horrifying Hawaiian shirts. They both look up at the others approach.

“Hey!” Geoff calls back. He can’t have missed the fire, but he doesn’t mention it. “We just got a call from some of our contacts. There’s some shit going down with a rival gang in the city. Nothing big, but Ryan and I are headed back to the mainland to deal with it.”

“Oh, shit,” Michael says. He’s got a determined look back on his face that Jeremy’s missed, after the other man spent so long wrapped up in anger and isolating himself from the rest of them. This is all a sudden reminder that no matter what else, they’re all the same crew. “You need any help?”

Geoff shakes his head.

“Nah,” he replies. “We got it covered. The rest of you stay here. It shouldn’t take us long - we might come back here, or maybe you’ll return to the mainland. But there’s no point in _all_ of us rushing off in the middle of the night. It’s not that big a job.”

Jeremy bites his lip. Things were starting to come together - as up and down as they’ve been, he was enjoying relaxing out here, away from the stresses of the city. He doesn’t like this sudden change.

Especially when Ray emerges from the house, wearing his usual hoodie and carrying a bag, his sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. He walks towards the helicopter, and Jeremy’s stomach sinks.

“Hey,” he says, and catches at Ray’s arm. He lets go quickly when the other man turns to him, but Ray doesn’t look annoyed. “You’re going too?”

Ray nods. He glances at Michael, beside Jeremy, and their eyes meet for a flicker of a second. After all that’s happened, it’s strange seeing them around each other - since arriving on the island they’ve both avoided _everybody_. Jeremy feels Michael stiffen, can practically taste the awkwardness.

“Yeah,” Ray replies finally, and looks back at Jeremy. “Might as well help them out.”

It seems silly, considering the two of them aren’t close, but Jeremy suddenly wants to tell him to stay. That he made progress with Michael, that they can _fix_ things. But he doesn’t. He still doesn’t know where Michael’s head’s at - what _he_ wants.

He nods, and steps back. Something passes across Ray’s face that Jeremy can’t quite work out, but a moment later he’s distracted when Jack comes up and pulls him into a tight hug. Michael and Gavin both turn away, and Ray slightly awkwardly hugs Jack back before climbing into the chopper after the others.

“I’ll see you assholes later,” Geoff informs them.

“Why am I an asshole?” Jeremy splutters.

“You think I’m blind? There’s a giant plume of smoke coming from the jungle and I know it was you two!” Geoff shrieks, but his voice breaks into a laugh at the end. He tugs Michael forward and plants a quick, firm kiss on his lips before doing the same to Jeremy, who freezes, still a little surprised by how sudden and _casual_ this all is.

Before he knows it, Geoff’s gone too, and Ryan’s waving at them from inside the helicopter. Jack takes Jeremy’s arm and gently tugs him and Michael back. They settle just inside the front doors as the helicopter takes off, its whirring blades sending an enormous gust of wind towards them, whipping at their hair and faces. It’s too loud for them to talk, but Jeremy sees Gavin wrap his jacket more closely around himself, then glance between Michael and Jeremy, clearly curious what went on. Jeremy bites his lip.

_It’s fine_ , he tells himself. _There are still four of us here. Still things to work out. And you’ll see the others again soon._

The helicopter vanishes away into the dark sky, a tiny, twinkling dot moving back across the ocean. Slowly its deafening drone fades away and they’re left in the isolated nighttime silence.

Michael and Gavin are both still staring into the sky. Jack glances at Jeremy, who gives a small smile back, feeling suddenly very close to him with all this tension between the others. Finally, Jack claps his hands together.

“Let’s go back in,” he says. “I think it’s time for some hot cocoa.”

\---

The house feels too quiet with the gents gone. Even though the island was so big that they could go hours, days even without seeing each other, Jack and Geoff had spent a lot of time in the cabin, and when Jeremy made his way upstairs to bed he’d often pass them in the kitchen, laughing and drinking together. Or Ryan, curled up on the couch scribbling furiously in a rather ominous leatherbound notebook. Jeremy’s never quite sure what he’s doing with that thing. Planning horrifying experiments, most likely. Then again, knowing how absurd some of the residents of this crew are, maybe he’s like... scrapbooking. Or something.

But now, the house is dark and silent as he makes his way through the corridors in search of Gavin. He could turn the lights on, but after the brightness and heat of the fire, he’s enjoying the dim light and the feel of cool floorboards under his feet.

There’s a faint glow from the back of the house. He heads towards it and finds the porch doors wide open and Gavin standing on the back verandah under the gleaming white light of the moon, struggling through the smoky haze the fire left. Jeremy comes up beside him. Gavin’s got one hand wrapped around his mug of cocoa, the other stretched up and resting on the low porch ceiling. Jeremy puts a hand on his back as he moves in next to him.

“Hey,” he says quietly.

Gavin must’ve heard him coming. He doesn’t jump or flinch - but Jeremy’s still surprised when the other man instead drops his arm down around Jeremy’s shoulders and hugs him close to his side. Gavin’s affectionate, yes, but not _lately_ , and given how quiet he was earlier Jeremy half-expected him to be sullen or withdrawn.

But no - he smiles at Jeremy and then leans in and kisses his head.

“Lil’ J,” he says, with such fondness in his voice that it warms Jeremy.

“You doing alright? The others left pretty suddenly.”

“I think people in AC noticed we were gone and decided it was their chance to act up. Probably thought we were overseas, not so close by. It shouldn’t take long for the others to deal with. But yes, I’m perfectly fine.”

“You didn’t want to go with them?” Jeremy can’t help asking - he hasn’t been sure, since they got here, if Gavin’s all that enthused about being on this island in the first place. He didn’t kick up as much of a fuss as Michael did, but he wasn’t exactly raring to go.

“Nah,” Gavin says. “Besides, it’d ruin all your plans, wouldn’t it? You’d be bummed if you went out to get Michael to talk to us only for us to up and leave.”

“You didn’t have to stay just for me if you don’t want to,” Jeremy protests, but Gavin shakes his head and gives a small smile, jostling Jeremy’s shoulders.

“I wanted to stay,” he assures him, and Jeremy smiles too. Gavin drops his arm and sips at his drink again, hands wrapped tightly around his mug, staring out at the bloody streaks of red in the sky.

“Big fire,” he murmurs - Jeremy nods, grimacing a little, and Gavin turns to him, his smile fading a little. “When you went out there and I saw all the smoke, I knew he was angry. I thought he might kill you.”

The words send a chill down Jeremy’s spine. He’s been imagining Ray falling, falling, since Michael told him about it. He’s not sure what he’d do, how he’d feel, if any of the others killed him in anger. Gavin seems used to it, or at least, given the stories Jeremy’s heard, he should be. But Jeremy thinks if it happened to him, he’d take it more personally than that.

“Actually, he saved my life,” he says instead.

Gavin looks surprised. Then he looks away, face darkening a little. Jeremy isn’t quite sure why. All he can think is that maybe Gavin isn’t so used to it after all.

“Gavin,” he begins, and pauses, unsure how to phrase things. “Michael told me what happened with Ray. I won’t share it in case he doesn’t want me to, but it… it happened right after a string of heists he was gonna pull. Ones that had a lot of collateral. Do you remember that?”

“Yes,” Gavin replies, “They were terrible, really. He told me a bit about his plans and _brutal_ is an understatement. Still. Wasn’t about to try and stop him. Once Michael gets an idea in his head, there’s no stopping him. This one time, oh my God, he like wanted to throw this hatchet into a pumpkin?”  
  
Jeremy has no idea where that story’s going. He pushes on before Gavin can get them too off topic.

“He was telling me about it, and he… he said he goes through these phases, sometimes, where he… I don’t know, where being immortal becomes too much. Where he gets stuck in his own head and needs to do something to get out, to fill some… some emptiness, I suppose. And the heists were part of that. Do you ever feel like that?”

Gavin falls silent, thinking.

“I guess because I haven’t been alive so long, I’m not quite at that point yet, either,” Jeremy finds himself rambling, a bit nervously. “But before I met you all I was starting to lose myself a bit, I think. Just sitting around all day, alone, nothing to do, endless _time_ … I might’ve snapped and gone on a crime spree.”

“I get what you’re saying,” Gavin replies. “And yes, I feel like that sometimes. It’s like… like everyone else is feeling so _much_ because they have a limited amount of time to do it in. Like they’re a blazing light that will burn out fast but we’re all just a long, slow, dull simmer. I normally travel, when that happens. There are so many places in the world I still haven’t seen and it reminds me that there’s still a lot left to explore, to do, and by the time I see it all, things will have been changed or new things built. Also, I’m waiting for us to develop space travel.”

“That took a turn,” Jeremy chuckles, and Gavin smiles.

“We might be the only people alive now who get to explore the universe! That’s exciting!”

“It is,” Jeremy agrees, and feels another swell of love for him, because he can’t think of anyone else who might’ve thought of that. “We’ll be out there breaking the final frontier or… or whatever.”

“How have you been alive a hundred years and still managed to avoid seeing some of the most popular movies around?” Gavin asks incredulously, and Jeremy laughs again. Gavin chuckles, too, but it fades quickly as he seems to remember what they were talking about, and lets out a little sigh.

“I was upset when he killed me the other day,” he admits, quietly. “I told you already, I felt like he didn’t care about me anymore. Even when we’ve broken up before, or fought, or had these feuds, it… it was never like this. He took every opportunity to rub it in my face how the two of you were getting along and working together and were gonna beat me in this competition. So when he… when he actually _killed_ me, it felt worse. Worse than it usually does.”

Jeremy doesn’t know what to say. He bites his lip.

“Ryan told me you were really upset about that,” Gavin adds, suddenly. “That you carried me back to the car after.”

Jeremy hadn’t thought he knew about that. He gives a small smile, nodding, and Gavin’s face softens.

“Don’t change, Jeremy,” he says. “We’re all assholes who’ve been alive too long but you… you still care. I like that. Hold onto it as long as you can.”

“I’m definitely gonna try,” Jeremy assures him, and Gavin beams. He hugs Jeremy to his side again and Jeremy wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him close.

“About Michael,” he begins, and Gavin sighs.

“I suppose he’s ready to work things out,” Gavin says, and Jeremy nods.

“I… I think so. He was pulling away again, and furious at both of us, but after tonight… I think he’s as tired of all this as the rest of us are.”

Gavin hums.

“I won’t approach him,” he says, and Jeremy’s heart starts to sink before he adds, “But if you want to, you can explain to him why I was upset. I don’t mind if you tell him.”

Jeremy nods. He knows he will - tomorrow, probably - Gavin knows he will too. It upsets Jeremy a little that Gavin’s too scared to tell Michael himself. Or not scared, perhaps, but… wary. But he will help - that seems to be what he’s here for, nowadays. He wants the two of them to resolve their differences - wants things to get back to _normal_. 

Gavin looks away. He drains the rest of his mug and puts it down with a sigh. Jeremy feels like things are nearing an end - in a good way, in a way where he thinks maybe finally they can all relax. Even this summer holiday has been wrought with tension.

“Hey,” he says, on the spur of the moment. “Once we get back to AC, let’s plan a job. Just the two of us.”

“Really?” Gavin asks, turning to him with wide eyes. “Our own heist? You’d be interested in that?”

“After seeing how… _creative_ your other one was, I’d love to plan one with you,” Jeremy says. “But yes, just us. Our personal one to brag to the others about.”

Gavin’s eyes light up. He looks grateful, for a moment, but then beams and seizes Jeremy by the shoulders, planting a firm kiss on his lips.

“I would love that,” he declares. “And I love _you_ , my little Jeremy.”

It comes out so easily that it doesn’t even sound strange to Jeremy. He just laughs, too, and hugs Gavin back, and is glad to have something new to look forward to.

\---

Jeremy’s headed back up to his room when he notices the light still on in the kitchen. Curious, he inches closer - he’d thought Jack had already gone to bed, and wasn’t sure about Michael, but sure enough both of them are hovering by the fridge. Michael’s got a bottle of whiskey in hand, a very different nightcap to the rest of them - but he’s not drinking from it. Just leaning against the wall swinging it idly as Jack talks to him.

“-worried,” Jeremy catches Jack saying, as he gets close enough to the door to hear them. “Even if Geoff acts like he isn’t. It’s not like you to hold a grudge for so long. It’s not like Gavin or Ray, either.”

“You don’t know shit about what happened.”

“That’s the problem. What happened with you and Jeremy, out there?”

Jeremy hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but when he hears his own name he kind of has to. He peers around the doorframe and sees Michael look away.

“He wanted to know what happened with me and Ray,” he grunts. “So I told him.”

“And?” Jack prompts. “Did that help?”

Michael looks down and takes a drink from the bottle. He doesn’t agree - but he doesn’t say no, either, doesn’t even attempt to, and Jeremy can’t help his small smile. He knows the other man well enough to know what that means by now.

Jack seems to as well. He reaches out and squeezes Michael’s shoulder.

“Can the two of you get past this?” he asks. “Ray’s back now and I don’t want him to leave again. None of the rest of us do.”

“Maybe,” Michael murmurs, and he sounds tired, and even that one word is better than him continuing to fight and protest and adamantly refuse. “Probably. Eventually, in time.”

“Eight years is time,” Jack says, softly, and it’s such a switch from the way the others usually talk about all this that Jeremy pauses, suddenly feeling a flicker of worry again. Like seeing the gents worried, too, makes all his own fears real. But it passes in a second when he sees Michael nod, slowly, like he agrees. That one simple admission makes Jeremy positive that he got through to him, that Michael’s _ready_ \- and he knows Ray is, too, just from his conversation with the other man. Ray would’ve blown him right off if he wasn’t.

_Once we get back to Achievement City_ , he thinks, and feels a pleasant warmth in his chest as he slips away and returns to bed.

\---

The next morning feels very strange. The sky is still so dark with smoke that even after the sun rises and morning warmth settles over the island, it’s not bright, but rather dim, like the world’s lit only by candlelight. In places, sunlight breaks through to cast dappled patches on the ground. It’s an eerie twilight and it could have made things gloomy but, rather, it makes it feel like they’ve ascended above regular time, like they’re in some strange, magical, in-between place where anything could happen.

For the first time in a very long time, all of them sit around the table to have breakfast together. It’s quite awkward, because no one’s really _talking_ , but at least no one’s fighting, either. Gavin looks pristine and angelic. He’s done his makeup for the first time in days and is wearing a white shirt that stands out in the darkness of this strange day. There’s something careful and defensive about how neat he looks - especially because Jeremy can tell he’s nervous. There’s barely anything on his plate and he’s got his eyes glued to his phone, the only motion at his end of the table the clockwork flick-flick-flick of his thumb as he scrolls through whatever it is he’s looking at. Instagram, probably.

Michael’s a mess in comparison. He looks hungover even if Jeremy knows he isn’t, dishevelled and tired, his hair and face still smudged with ashy soot from the fire yesterday. He dumps a whole bunch of things on his plate but also doesn’t do much more than pick at it. There’s an enormous mug of coffee in front of him, so strong it’s pretty much pitch black.

The silence is awkward, but the usual simmering tension isn’t really there anymore. Even the group chat is starting to get relatively back to normal… or at least, what passes as normal for them. 

**Ryan: (rectal evacuation)  
** Killed a guy with a fire hydrant yesterday

**Ryan:  
** Want pictures?

**Jack:  
** We are literally eating breakfast so no thanks

Jeremy smiles a little, glad that the worst of the fighting is over. He’s checking the morning news and occasionally looking up to make small talk with Jack when his phone buzzes with a new text.

**Ray:  
** Hey, it’s Ray  
Figured you might want my new number in case you need to contact me.

It’s quite a surprise, and for a moment Jeremy has no idea what to think. He didn’t expect Ray would actually want to contact him. He’d been wondering since the other man returned why he never joined any of the chats - probably the others didn’t want to upset Michael - only appearing in Gavin’s photographs.

**Jeremy:  
** Thanks :) See you in AC soon.

**Ray:  
** Probably. I imagine you guys might not stay out there for much longer with the rest of us over here.

**Jeremy:  
** I think you might be right…

He glances up at Michael and Gavin. They’re avoiding looking at each other, but that also means they’re not glaring or bickering or doing anything to indicate they still hate each other’s guts. Today is the day, Jeremy thinks, determined. He’ll make the two of them talk one way or another.

Within an hour or so, the smoke’s cleared up somewhat, and it’s looking brighter outside. After a moment Gavin rises and picks up his plate.

“What are your plans for the day?” Jeremy asks, glancing up at him.

Gavin looks at him, and gives a small smile. He’s been so deliberately engrossed in his phone the whole morning that Jeremy didn’t want to bother him. But he looks quite happy to talk now.

“I’m just going down to the pier, Lil’ J. I’ll read some audiobooks, sunbathe, take artistic windswept selfies…”

Jeremy laughs.

“Alright, you have fun with that.”

“You know where to find me if you want to do anything,” Gavin says, and puts on his sunglasses before flouncing off out of the room. He scurries a bit nervously past Michael’s chair, and Jeremy watches him in amusement.

Jack reaches out and touches his arm.

“I’m just gonna go call the others and see what they’re up to, then I’m going to do some work out the back building those swings I talked about. Come get me if you need anything.”

Jeremy nods. The next thing he knows, Jack’s gone too, and he’s left alone with Michael, who’s still prodding unenthusiastically at his baked beans. After a moment, Jeremy sighs.

“So,” he says, and Michael looks up. His eyes have dark smudges under them, but he forces a smile.

“So,” he replies.

“You feeling better today?” Jeremy asks, and Michael sighs loudly. He quits playing with his food and instead reaches up and runs a hand through his unruly curls.

“Define _better_ ,” he begins, then shakes his head. “No, I… I guess I am, a bit. Did some thinking last night. And it was good to get some sleep. We’ll see what happens, but I… I’m tired of just being angry all the time. Gotta let go of things at some point, right?”

“For sure.”

“So I’ll quit with the burning stuff down and blowing shit up,” Michael says.

Jeremy smiles. “Geoff will be relieved.”

Michael nods. There’s another pause, then Jeremy moves to a seat closer to Michael’s at the table.

“Michael,” he begins, quietly. “Gavin said it’s alright if I tell you why he was being so annoying.”

Michael raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t make a mean comment or say he doesn’t care, so Jeremy takes that as a good sign.

“Since I joined the crew,” he continues, “He felt like you were ignoring him, pushing him away, didn’t care about him anymore. He said you kept blowing him off whenever he wanted to do stuff. Like taking him up in your new plane, after you took me. I suppose he got jealous and wanted attention. But he was really hurt, Michael - told me you said some things to him that I guess you were joking about, but he took seriously... he just seemed to really think that since I came along, you didn’t want to hang out with him anymore.”

Michael’s staring at him and Jeremy can’t work out what he’s thinking. He processes this in silence before turning away. After a moment, he gives a little snort.

“Fucking Gavin,” he murmurs, but it’s not bitter or malicious like it was before. “He’s like that one kid in class who just acts up because they want attention, even negative attention.”

“He brought Ray back because you kept taunting him about how you and I were working together,” Jeremy adds. “But he thinks Ray doesn’t care, too, since he just left without saying goodbye to any of the others. You know they’re _all_ upset by that, right? Your fight took eight years away from the rest of them.”

Michael bites his lip. _That_ seems to hit him hard - like it’s something he never really thought about, before. Like eight years didn’t seem so bad considering their lifespans.

“I guess I was blowing him off,” he admits. “I just… _you_ were here and it really felt like Ray was being replaced. It was the first time someone new came in and it kept reminding me that he was gone. I wanted to spend more time with you, find out the differences so it wouldn’t just make me think about him. Gavin kept wanting to hang out, but I got annoyed since he didn’t know about all the Ray shit. I said some pretty mean things trying to get him to stop pestering me. Assumed he wouldn’t take them personally because we say shit to him all the time and he never seems to care.”

“This was different,” Jeremy says, and Michael sighs.

“Apparently. He was still an asshole, but… I can see why he might’ve been upset. A lot of things just slide right off Gavin’s back but when something does hit him, it hits him hard. I was so fucking pissed about him bringing back Ray, but… I don’t know. It was reactionary, I guess. Now you told me that, I can see why he did it. Besides, he didn’t _know_ how bad things got between us.”

Jeremy nods. Michael looks out the kitchen window at the dark clouds fringed by the glow of the sun behind them, the black water and the tiny white figure of Gavin in the distance.

“Well then,” Michael declares. “Guess it’s time we had a chat about this.”

Jeremy’s shoulders slump in relief. Part of him had almost expected Michael to refuse to engage with Gavin again. But he’s taken this on board so easily that Jeremy can only really grin a bit stupidly.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he begins, but Michael’s already shaking his head.

“If Gav wanted you to tell me about this, he might want you there too. Come with me to find him, at least, just so he doesn’t take off running the second he sees me approach.”

Jeremy nods, and smiles. He stands up, ready to go, but Michael hesitates suddenly at the door.

“Thank you,” he says, abruptly. “All the shit you’re putting up with from us and you’re still so fucking patient. Anyone else would probably have gotten the fuck out of here weeks ago. But you stuck with it.”

“It’s nothing,” Jeremy starts.

“No, it is,” Michael insists. “And I know we can be assholes sometimes - I sure was last night - but I… _we…_ do appreciate it.”

Jeremy nods solemnly, and Michael smiles, leaning in and planting a quick kiss to his lips before clapping his hands together briskly and opening the door.

“Come on then!” he declares. “Time to start building bridges instead of burning them.”

\---

Gavin’s sitting right at the edge of the pier. He looked like some sort of hero from an old novel, in his billowing white shirt with the dark water all around him. If Gothic romance heroes had bleached blond hair, that is. 

He’s got his iPad out and his earphones in, which Jeremy personally thinks is a rather precarious endeavour considering he’s right on the edge of the water.

He can tell Michael’s nervous as they approach, even if he might not want to admit it. The other man’s fidgety, and can’t seem to stop messing with his hair.

“Gavin,” Jeremy calls out as they get near, just so he doesn’t get a shock and drop his electronics into the sea.

Gavin turns. He stiffens when he sees Michael, and slowly lays his iPad down. He starts to get to his feet, but Michael holds up a hand to stop him, and Gavin freezes. His eyes widen as Michael walks over and sits down next to him, and it breaks Jeremy’s heart a bit how _nervous_ they both look, when they’ve never been scared of anything else before. When usually neither of them care at all about their fights and bickering. Gavin starts to pull his sunglasses down from the top of his head, but Michael grabs his hand to stop him, confiscating them and shoving them into his own pocket.

Jeremy stands there a bit awkwardly.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” he starts to say, and turns to go.

“ _Stay_ ,” Gavin snaps, and Jeremy freezes. The other man’s eyes are still fixed on Michael. “He’s less likely to shoot me if you’re here and I’d rather not resurrect lying at the bottom of the ocean.”

Michael looks away guiltily, and Jeremy bites his lip. There’s something tight and defensive in Gavin’s voice. He knows he doesn’t mean it, but he walks over and sits down on Gavin’s other side anyway, not so close that it becomes awkward.

“I wouldn’t shoot you now, boi,” Michael says quietly, and Gavin looks down.

“Didn’t stop you last time, did it?”

“We were fighting. I do it all the time.”

“That was different. You shouldn’t have done it,” Gavin grumbles, and Michael shakes his head.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t. Not like that, not when I was so angry, not when I only did it because I wanted to hurt you.”

Gavin looks vaguely appeased, but still doesn’t say much, turning away from Michael and staring out at the water instead. Michael lets out a little sigh, and there’s a long silence, but Jeremy’s not about to interrupt.

“Remember that time,” Michael says abruptly, “We went up north and stayed in this weird ski resort, just the two of us? And it was real fucking rundown and probably haunted and you said it looked like…”

“Like a place someone would get murdered in an Agatha Christie novel,” Gavin murmurs, with the slightest hint of a smile.

“That was it!” Michael shakes his head fondly. “The whole place would creak at night, and you said you were scared of ghosts and made it an excuse to keep coming into my room. We went skiing every day and you were God awful but insisted on trying the hardest slopes anyway. And you made us do this really weird photoshoot of you posing on all the old furniture in the building, like, what the fuck.”

“Those were class,” Gavin protests, “ _Aesthetic_ , okay?”

Michael laughs, but a moment later his voice softens.

“But out of everything we’ve done,” he continues, “One of my favourite memories is still that last night we spent, when the Northern Lights were up and we sat out in the snow looking at them. It was the first time I’d ever seen them and they were incredible. I still feel alive in moments like that. They make me see the beauty in things, not just how easily everything dies. And I could see how… how enthralled you were by them too.”

Gavin had started smiling, but when Michael’s voice tapers away, it fades, and he looks away, biting his lip. Michael reaches out and touches his arm.

“I’m sorry, Gavin,” he says, softly. “I didn’t mean to upset you so much. I was being an asshole. I wasn’t intentionally ignoring you, but I definitely took things too far. I can see why you were upset. And I shouldn’t have killed you.”

Gavin’s face softens. He doesn’t pull away, even when Michael tugs his arm gently to get him to face him.

“I’m glad Jeremy’s here, but he’s not Ray and he’s not you,” Michael continues. He scoffs a bit. “Don’t think anyone could ever fill your boots. You’re my boi,” he says, and nudges Gavin with his elbow.

Gavin finally smiles again, a little shy sort of grin.

“Sorry I blew up your plane,” he replies. “I just… got mad.”

“I know,” Michael says. “Guess we were both idiots, huh?”

“Pretty much,” Gavin nods.

They smile at each other, and Jeremy can see just from the looks on their faces that any resentment has melted away. It’s the same warm affection that always used to pass between them, and after a moment Michael leans in and kisses Gavin, gently. There’s something sweet about how carefully he cups Gavin’s cheek, how Gavin rests a hand on his waist, the other clutching at the edge of the pier to make sure he doesn’t fall off. Jeremy can only watch with a fond smile, so relieved that things have worked out between them.

They pull apart, and Michael shifts his hand to the back of Gavin’s neck, keeping him held close. His eyes are very warm, staring intently into Gavin’s.

“Love you,” he says, and Jeremy sees the wide smile that spreads across Gavin’s face. He finds himself smiling as well - doesn’t feel left out, especially when Gavin reaches his free hand out and grabs Jeremy’s, squeezing gently.

“Love you too,” he says, and glances between them. “Both of you.”

Michael glances fondly at Jeremy, but quickly turns his attention back to Gavin.

“No hard feelings?” he asks, and Gavin shakes his head.

“There never are,” he says. 

Jeremy can only wonder if this really is the biggest fight they’ve ever had. If there were more shockers, ones where even the gents got involved, where people got hurt and killed. He supposes, as more and more and _more_ time passes, this one will end up fading into memory just like everything else. Will become something they laugh about later, _oh my God, remember how much drama there was? Remember when Michael destroyed all Gavin’s heist prep and we full had to go to some deserted island for some sort of relationship counselling? Good times._

He’ll get used to it too, probably. But for now, he’s just glad that his being here meant things were sorted out much more quickly, and when Michael leans in and kisses Gavin again - rougher this time, more passionate, but his hands very gentle where he’s cradling the other man’s face - Jeremy can only keep smiling, finally feeling more at peace.

\---

That night they all sleep together in the enormous bed in Jack and Geoff’s room, the one that’d be big enough for all of them, if they’d wanted to fit into it while they were all here.

It’s probably far too hot to be lying here together. Humidity’s descended over the island like a thick woollen blanket, and even a light sheet makes things uncomfortably stifling. But Jeremy wouldn’t move away from all the others for the world, not now that they’re finally _together_ and he’s able to lie here, curled up with his head on Jack’s chest and the other man’s arm pillowing him, the gentle cool breeze of the fan nearby wafting sporadically wafting over them as it rotates with a rhythmic whirring noise.

Michael and Gavin are on Jack’s other side, lying sprawled in a tangle of limbs, sticky bare skin pressed together. After what feels like months of them ignoring one another, Jeremy had forgotten how nice it was to see them huddled up together, Michael’s ankle hooked over Gavin’s keeping him still so that he doesn’t flail around and kick them all in his sleep.

The air smells like jungle heat and the sharp citrus tang of the lemongrass extract that keeps mosquitoes away, and Jeremy can’t sleep.

He tells himself it’s the heat, but he knows it’s not. It’s not the rise and fall of Jack’s soft, broad chest under his head either. Or the metrical crash of waves in the distance, like a heartbeat trying to sooth him into sleep.

It feels _right_ having all the others here again - but he can’t help thinking about what’s missing.

He thinks of what it would be like to have Ryan on his other side, his breathing loud and steady. Maybe one big hand would be flung out to rest draped over Jeremy’s waist; heavy, warm, but a reassuring solid presence.

And Geoff, snoring away on the opposite end of the bed, and how if he was here the faint smell of whiskey would mingle in the air with everything else, familiar and sour.

He thinks about that. Thinks about how much he _wants_ that - and can have that, now, maybe, since everyone seems to be coming together, since he’s with the gents now…

But it still doesn’t feel right.

Jeremy doesn’t know Ray nearly well enough to begin to seamlessly fit him into his 2 a.m. imaginings. But now he lets himself vaguely entertain the idea, now, one more warm body in the bed with them, neatly filling things out. Maybe he could lie on Gavin’s other side. Gavin would be very pleased about that, content to have the other two men pressed in around his sides.

_Would Ray even want that?_ Jeremy wonders, suddenly, with a pang of insecurity. _With you in here, too? He doesn’t even know you._

It makes his heart sink for a moment. He pushes the silly fantasy away. Now that all the fighting is over, now that they’re left seeing where they all stand with each other, here and _now_ , he feels like he’s been pushed back in time to the complications of when he first joined, the endless uncertainty - _how does this work?_

_How do we all fit together?_

\---

They return to the mainland the next day. There’s not much left on the island here for them, now, and with the novelty wearing off and the drama mostly over, it’s starting to feel a little boring. It’s funny, how quickly they lose interest in things nowadays. Nothing feels _new_.

The trouble back in Achievement City has apparently been dealt with - it really wasn’t anything major - and somehow, things settle back into a weird sort of normal.

Jack resumes the building he’d been doing before they were all whisked away to the island, and Michael takes Gavin off almost every day for ‘shenanigans’ around the city. He seems determined to make things up to him, and although they invite him along a couple of times, Jeremy doesn’t want to intrude. Even if Gavin says he doesn’t mind, he thinks the other man might appreciate having Michael all to himself for a little while, and getting to be the centre of attention.

As for Ray, Jeremy hasn’t seen him since they got back, in an achingly familiar turn of events. He’s living out at Ryan’s manor with him, and doesn’t seem inclined to come back to the city any time soon. That’s all that’s really said about it, and Michael makes no comment on it all, and Jeremy can’t tell what he’s thinking. They haven’t talked about Ray since the fire.

They don’t see the two of them for a bit, but that’s not unusual. Sometimes, Ryan vanishes for days, doing whatever the fuck it is he’s doing out there. ‘Experiments,’ whatever that means. He’s still active in the group chat, which Ray still hasn’t been added to. Jack tells Jeremy at some point that Michael kicked him out of it after he left, and Ray had left his phone behind besides. Jeremy’s not game enough to bring up adding him back in; that’s for the others to deal with.

Jeremy doesn’t really have time to feel left out though, because Geoff invites him up to his office in the penthouse and announces that “Hey, Michael told me you’ve got some _fresh new ideas_ , so how about you help me plan our next heist? Probably better to do something all together after that big fiasco.”

Jeremy agrees eagerly, and throws himself into it, keen to prove himself. He’s still a little sour that all the planning he did with Michael didn’t get to come to anything, but working it into a heist they can _all_ participate in is a lot more fun, especially with Geoff there acting as mentor.

All in all, there’s a funny, tense sense of _waiting_ to it.

Things are supposedly back to ‘normal,’ especially with Michael and Gavin no longer fighting - except Ray’s here, but then he’s not _here_ here, not at the penthouse with the rest of them. Still not going out with Geoff and Jack, who Jeremy _knows_ miss him. Still not quite _back_.

He can’t help wondering if Michael and Gavin have talked about Ray yet. After all, Gavin brought him back.

Or maybe that’s the sort of thing that they can just ignore - can so easily put from their minds and not care about, focusing only on themselves and _their_ relationship. He’s seen all of the other immortals do that a lot, take something worrying or upsetting and studiously ignore it and focus only on their other pleasures instead.

Either way, it almost feels to Jeremy like Michael’s deliberately avoiding the topic - and _Jeremy_ bringing up the topic - by just hanging out with Gavin every day.

But no one else seems to _mind_ , going on with their days like clockwork, unconcerned. Once again they simply don’t seem to care about time. So Jeremy - Jeremy stops himself worrying about it too, and lets himself fall back into the simple routine of enjoying every day as it passes, and not worrying about the future.

\---

**Ryan: (private)  
** Good morning Jeremy.

**Jeremy:**  
hey! Haven’t seen you in a while, how are you going?

**Ryan:  
** Excellently.

**Ryan:  
** I wanted to invite you out here, actually.

**Jeremy:  
** What, to your mansion?

**Ryan:  
** Indeed

**Ryan:  
** Bring your things. Come stay here for a while, there’s plenty of room. I heard Geoff’s been working you hard, but there’s something to be said for getting out of the city for a while, and you’re probably sick of islands.

**Jeremy:  
** Wow, that sounds pretty good actually

**Jeremy:  
** Is Ray still staying with you?

**Ryan:  
** He is! Is that okay?

**Ryan:  
** Only come if you feel comfortable with it.

**Jeremy:  
** No, I’d like to

**Jeremy:  
** I’ll come down there tomorrow morning :)

**Ryan:**  
I’m looking forward to it.

\---

Jeremy hasn’t been to Ryan’s country manor much, and never on his own. He never dared to come out here uninvited - and he wasn’t as close to Ryan, before, so said invitations never came. He wandered out here with Michael a few times, or on group dinners with the others. But it’s still such a very _new_ situation that he feels a bit nervous as he drives out towards the dark, looming house in the distance, surrounding by its numerous fences and paddocks and at one point more barbed wire than should really be normal for what’s meant to just be a residence.

He’s glad he doesn’t have to knock on the enormous, carved wooden doors. Ryan is standing outside, ready to greet him. Jeremy hasn’t seen him in a while, and it sends a little thrill down his spine to finally lay eyes on the other man - his hair’s loose, his face clean of paint, and the way he’s dressed kind of makes him look like he’s trying to cosplay Ned Stark, but Jeremy can’t help the wide grin that spreads over his face just at the sight of him.

“Hey,” he begins, as he gets out of the car, only for Ryan to stride forward and greet him with a big kiss. Jeremy makes a muffled noise of surprise as their lips meet; he has to tilt his head back as Ryan bends down over him - but kisses him back eagerly. He’s missed him lately. It’s strange juggling so many people, especially all at once, especially when the relationship’s so new. He doesn’t know how the others do it. When he’s not with one of them, he misses them - hasn’t quite learned to let go yet, hasn’t got that balance that the others navigate so easily.

For now, though, he relaxes, relishing the feeling of Ryan’s calloused fingers against his jaw and his other hand pressed against Jeremy’s lower back.

Ryan’s grown his beard out some. It scratches against Jeremy’s cheek as they pull apart.

“Hello,” he murmurs, intense blue eyes gazing warmly at Jeremy.

Jeremy can only stare back, still catching his breath.

“Quite the greeting there,” he manages, and Ryan laughs.

“Well, I haven’t see you in a while,” he points out. He steps back and flings an arm towards his great mansion. “Welcome! Your bags are in the car?”

Jeremy nods. Ryan moves to help him grab them, and Jeremy stares up at the house a bit nervously.

“Where’s Ray?” he asks.

“In his room somewhere,” Ryan replies. “He knows you’re coming, don’t worry. I’m looking forward to having you here,” he adds. “I don’t believe you’ve stayed overnight before.”

Jeremy shakes his head. He in fact has not spent much time here at all, and when he has come over he’s usually stayed just in the dining room and parlour; the visiting rooms. 

“Well, make yourself at home,” Ryan assures him. “Feel free to go anywhere you want and grab anything you want.”

Jeremy can’t help thinking of Ryan’s laboratory, or ‘secret murder basement,’ as Michael calls it. Wonders if that counts as _anywhere he wants to go._ He’s always wondered about it. 

But for now he smiles, and nods, and follows Ryan into the mansion.

\---

Life at Ryan’s house is incredibly strange.

The building itself is an anachronistic mess; objects from innumerable different time periods decorating the bookshelves and mantels in every room. Renaissance paintings hanging on the wall above Roman antiques; a grandfather clock from Victorian England, its ominous ticking somehow able to be heard throughout the entire house. Tea sets that wouldn’t be out of place in Downton Abbey, cigar tins and cigarette boxes that look like they came right off the set of Mad Men. There are no maids around but somehow nothing’s all that messy; Jeremy’s left wondering if Ryan goes around with a feather duster when no one’s looking.

Still. Jeremy gets used to living in what feels like the most disorganised museum in existence. He’s given his own expansive room right up at the top of the house, from which he has a great view of the fields surrounding the house, and the forest in the distance. He often wakes up early in the morning and looks out the window to find Ryan trudging across the grass in heavy rainboots, looking very determined. Jeremy’s not quite sure what he’s up to, since there are no animals on the farm to care for, just a few large sheds around the property which he is kind of scared to look inside.

They eat breakfast together most days, around the enormous oak table. Usually they all help to prepare it, Ryan frying eggs and bacon while wearing a ridiculous apron that’s designed to look like it has massive abs on it.

“What, your own aren’t impressive enough already?” Ray will drawl, deadpan, every time Ryan puts it on.

“How do you know I didn’t just screenprint my own abs _onto_ this,” Ryan shoots back.

Ray laughs, the sort of hoarse chuckle that comes with smoking too much. He’ll be toasting the croissants and stirring baked beans in a pot over the stove.

Jeremy’s in charge of cutting the fresh fruit. Ryan will steal a piece now and then, a strawberry or cube of mango or slice of ripe plum, popping it into his mouth with juice-stained fingers, giving Jeremy a wicked grin as he does so.

It’s easy with the two of them.

There’s no lack of stories to share while eating, and Jeremy hasn’t heard any of the ones with Ray in them before, so none of them get bored. And when Ryan’s there with them, it’s not awkward - Ray’s quieter than any of the others, yes, but still just as sharp and funny, and spending time together in the house he loses some of his wariness - listens to Jeremy with as much interest as the others all do.

During the rest of the day Ray is usually lurking around the house somewhere. Jeremy still feels a little self-conscious hanging out with him alone. Ray spends a lot of time on the Xbox in front of the television, or playing his Nintendo DS while lying sprawled on one of Ryan’s funny claw-footed couches that wouldn’t look out of place in Count Olaf’s mansion.

Sometimes Jeremy joins him for a game. They’ll pretty much play in silence, only commenting on what’s happening on the screen, but it’s still nice to spend time together, to slowly get more comfortable in one another’s presence.

As for Ryan, he spends a lot of time down in his basement, usually emerging for lunch, which Jeremy has taken to driving to the city to buy and bring back. Jeremy has no idea what he does down there - Ryan always answers vaguely, just saying it’s an “experiment” or “something I’m working on,” but he hears terrible clanging and banging and groaning noises from below the house. Occasionally the floor will tremble, or all the lights will flicker. Sometimes, Jeremy walks past the closed door and see great flashes of bluish light from the cracks below it and around the doorframe, accompanied by alarming sizzling noises.

He’s too scared to ask if he can go in to have a look, especially since the door’s always locked when Ryan leaves, anyway. Whatever’s happening down there, it’s definitely some sort of secret.

\---

**Michael: (team short temper)  
** yo how’s it going at Ryan’s place?  
  
**Jeremy:  
** Good! it’s been nice to spend more time with him :)  
It’s really relaxing out here, too.

**Michael:  
** hahaha, more relaxing than Geoff’s island?  
  
**Jeremy:  
** Except for, y’know, the mysterious noises coming from the basement

**Michael:  
** ah yes

**Michael:  
** The “experiments”

**Jeremy:  
** Do you really not know what he’s working on? Surely he’s got to have mentioned it at some point!

**Michael:  
** Previously he made some new things for us to use on heists in there

**Michael:  
** You know, just your regular old weapons of mass destruction

**Michael:  
** but this current project he’s been working on for a couple of years now and never told us what it’s all about. Also last year he was flying around supposedly doing research or buying parts or something for it. Went to America, Japan, Singapore, all over the fucking place

**Michael:  
** He’s dropped hints it will ‘change the world… mwahahaha’ so I’m 99% certain he’s building the shrink ray from Despicable Me and is also gonna try and steal the fucking moon

**Jeremy:  
** I honestly can’t tell if you’re joking or not

**Michael:  
** I legitimately would not be surprised

**Michael:  
** BTW, Gav and I are going on a road trip for the rest of the week, that’s what I wanted to let you know.

**Jeremy:  
** Sounds like fun! Have a good time <3

**Michael:  
** I’m sure we will - let me know when you’re done at Ryan’s.

Jeremy smiles a bit - it’s good to hear from Michael. He’s missed him, being here on his own, but he knows Michael won’t come to visit. Not when Ray’s here, and Jeremy didn’t miss that Michael quite pointedly hasn’t asked about the other man since Jeremy came to stay here. He’s still not quite sure what’s going on between them. Neither has given any indication, and Jeremy’s not brave enough to ask Ray himself what he’s planning to do.

Still. He continues to try not to worry about it and just enjoy his time here. At least things aren’t _volatile_ , or even tense, really, so he lets himself rely on it playing out by itself.

One morning he deliberately wakes up before dawn and goes downstairs, waiting in the kitchen with a coffee until Ryan emerges, already fully dressed and carrying a large tool bag. He looks surprised to see Jeremy sitting there, but smiles.

“You’re up early.”

“Was curious about what you do every morning, so I thought I’d tag along, if that’s alright,” Jeremy says.

Ryan laughs. He seems to know exactly what Jeremy’s up to, what he’s curious about, but coyly doesn’t explain.

“That’s completely fine,” he says. “Come and help me, then - I could use another pair of hands.”

It’s nice to watch the sun rise as they head out into the cool morning air. There’s dew on the grass and the fresh smell of rain still lingering from the light showers that happened overnight. It’s very different to the noise of the city at dawn, as garbage trucks come down the road and the first early-morning commuters head out to go to work. There’s something more peaceful about hearing nothing but the morning calls of birds and Ryan’s heavy footsteps next to him as they trudge through the grass.

“There are generators all around the farm that are powering my experiment,” Ryan explains. “They use an enormous amount of electricity and it’s not uncommon for them to short circuit in the night, so I need to check on them every morning. Make any necessary repairs, ensure everything’s in working order.”

He flings open the door to one of the sheds and sure enough, a great, noisy machine is chugging away in there. It looks like something from Doctor Frankenstein’s laboratory, and Jeremy can only stare.

“What the actual fuck are you doing down there?” he demands. Ryan just laughs, clearly delighted by how confused he is.

“One day it will all be revealed.”

“You’re killing me here,” Jeremy grumbles, moving up next to Ryan to watch as he crouches beside the machine and opens a panel on its side. “Although my theory is looking more and more likely.”

“And what’s that?”

“That Michael was right with his joke that one time and you’re designing a real-life version of Dead by Daylight for us to play one night out here.”   


“That’s not correct, but it’s a fantastic idea.” 

“Can you give me a hint?” Jeremy asks, and Ryan laughs again. He’s fiddling away inside the power box while Jeremy watches, intrigued by the expert, precise movements of his hands.

“It’s nothing that serious. Just a pet project.”

“A pet project that’s taken years?”

“You’ll see one day. Or not, if it doesn’t work out.”

He won’t say any more on the matter, and Jeremy doesn’t pry, sure that eventually Ryan will spill his secrets.

When Ryan’s not working on whatever-the-fuck-it-is, they tend to do things all three of them. Watching movies, a lot of the time - there are still quite a few Jeremy hasn’t seen yet, and the others don’t mind rewatching them. Or shooting clay pigeons out in the fields - they’re all good shots, but Ray has to be one of the best Jeremy’s ever seen, and it’s a joy to watch how easily he hits the targets, even when it doesn’t look like he was aiming particularly carefully, a sort of casual ease to everything he does.

Ryan digs a trebuchet out from somewhere (leaving Jeremy wondering what other sort of medieval weaponry he has just lying about) and they spend a day destroying various things around the farm with it. Afterwards they sit up on the roof of the house drinking beer and watching the sunset, laughing at the destruction, talking idly about nothing important. It’s one of Jeremy’s favourite days he’s spent with the crew so far.

He’s slowly growing more comfortable with Ray, even if sometimes he still doesn’t quite know what to talk to him about. But despite the occasional awkwardness, they play videogames together just about every evening now, and they’re starting to get along. Jeremy tells him more stories about his life before meeting the crew, and Ray will offer up snippets himself (avoiding any specifically about Michael, which is telling). They’re still not particularly _close_ , but Jeremy would definitely consider him a friend. It’s a start.

Ryan’s sleeping with both of them, which is strange and makes him a weird intermediary in their relationship, especially since it’s not exactly a secret - and since of the entire crew Ray and Jeremy are just about the only two who aren’t actually together.

It’d be easy to feel jealous, especially with only three in the house.

But he’s _not_ \- he’s starting to get used to how the relationships work around here. Besides, Ryan’s paying more attention to him than he ever has before - bringing him afternoon coffee, sitting for long hours talking with him, staying the night in his room and waking him up in the morning with soft kisses and gentle touches as the two of them slowly explore everything about each other.

Jeremy sees the two of them one day coming out from one of the sitting rooms, hair dishevelled, a red mark on the side of Ryan’s neck. Ryan’s shirt is open and Ray hasn’t got one on at all, is only wearing a pair of low-slung jeans. But they’re laughing as they leave, their fingers tangled together, and Ray’s got a little smile on his face like Jeremy’s never seen before. Something bright and warm and _real_.

That’s the moment which strikes Jeremy suddenly, makes him realise how attractive he finds the other man too - in a different way to the others, since he’s so much quieter, less boisterous; he doesn’t have Gavin’s sparkling magnetic attraction or Ryan’s intensity or Michael’s furious blazing warmth that draws Jeremy in. It’s something slower, more intimate, but real nonetheless. Something that makes him once again entertain the thought of Ray joining them again, of them becoming an easy unit of seven.

He doesn’t let himself linger on it too long. Just simmer slowly in the background, growing each day.

\---

It’s a sleepy summer afternoon when Jeremy wanders into the living room, groggy after a long nap, to find Gavin sprawled on the couch texting.

“Gav!” he exclaims. He’s surprised to see him there, but immediately delighted. He’s missed him, this last week.

There were pictures in the group chat, of course, live updates of his road trip with Michael. Photos of Gavin, asleep in the passenger seat with his head slumped against the window, evening sunlight spilling in around him, the blurred background of fields and farms in the distance.

Or Michael, caught in an unflattering moment halfway through a bite of a cheap petrol station hot dog.  Snapchats of them singing along to the radio, or pausing whenever they pass a field of cows to try and lure them over to the fence. Photographs of grungy looking, cheap hotel rooms. Just the two of them and the road. Jeremy would like that someday, with any of them.

But now Gavin’s back, fingers flying deftly over his phone - he sits up and smiles, tossing it aside when he notices Jeremy, who bounds over to him and pulls him immediately into an eager kiss. He’s missed this; Gavin’s soft lips and bony shoulders under his hands, and the faintly spicy smell of his expensive cologne.

“My lovely little Jeremy!” Gavin declares when they pull apart, sounding terribly pleased. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too,” Jeremy says. He can’t stop smiling - he didn’t expect to see Gavin here, so it’s a nice surprise. “What are you doing here? How was the road trip?”

“Fantastic,” Gavin says. “I’ve come to visit Ryan, but I haven’t seen him! Was looking through the house, then I got lazy and figured I’d just wait.”

“Who let you in?”

“Got my own key,” Gavin says, tugging it out - it’s on a gold chain around his throat, and the top part is shaped like a skull. Jeremy rolls his eyes, fondly.   
  
“I think Ryan’s down in his lab,” he says. “Heard some… interesting sounds from down there.”

“Oh! I’ll go see him, then,” Gavin says, heading for the door.

“Wait!” Jeremy says, a little surprised. “He lets you down there?”

Gavin nods, beaming cheekily, and Jeremy frowns a little. He’d thought none of the others had ever been into the laboratory, workroom, cellar, whatever the fuck it is.

“What’s he working on?” he asks, and Gavin’s smile widens, slowly.

“A very secret project,” he replies, deviously. “That I know _everything_ about. But I won’t spill the beans.”

He starts laughing at the look on Jeremy’s face. Jeremy mock-scowls and moves towards him, catching him around the waist and tugging him closer. He’s feeling more affectionate today than usual, but he has _missed_ Gavin, and after everything that happened before it’s so nice to see him smiling and bubbly and _happy_ again, instead of sulking and sad. Gavin giggles and squirms, but doesn’t pull away as Jeremy mouths at the side of his neck.

“I’m sure I can get secrets out of you somehow,” he warns, letting one hand slide up under the front of Gavin’s shirt.

“You can try,” Gavin replies, but then sighs and properly slips out of Jeremy’s hold. “I’ll be back in a minute, I just wanna go say hi to Ryan and let him know I’m here.”

“You staying the night?” Jeremy calls after him, as he makes for the door.

“I could,” Gavin replies over his shoulder, something teasing in it. He disappears a moment later and Jeremy can’t stop smiling as he sits down on the couch to wait, checking his phone.

A moment later Ray wanders in. He looks like he just woke up from a nap too - it’s a lazy sort of day, the weather warm but not too humid, everything still and quiet outside.

“Sup,” he says, with one of the friendlier nods that he’s been giving Jeremy lately, looking genuinely pleased to see him around.

“Hey,” Jeremy replies. “Gav’s here.”

Ray freezes, clearly not having expected this visit either.

“He is?” he asks, quietly.

“Yeah. He went to go see Ryan, but I’m guessing he’ll be staying here all tonight.”

A funny look passes across Ray’s face. He nods, but seems distracted, sinking down onto the nearest armchair a moment later.

“Everything alright?” Jeremy asks, cautiously.

He expects Ray to brush him off as usual, but the other man is silent for a long moment before letting out a sigh.

“I’ve been thinking about what you told me,” he replies finally.

“About Gav?” Jeremy asks. It takes him a moment to remember, it feels like it’s been so long since they were on the island. But he dimly recalls mentioning Gavin and what he’s been upset about to Ray. He certainly remembers _Gavin_ telling him about it.

“Yeah,” Ray replies, and runs a hand through his hair. “Guess I was kinda an ass acting like I didn’t even miss him when he came to find me. I guess I was just - distracted, too wrapped up in my own drama with Michael to think about how the others might’ve felt when I went AWOL for so long. I should probably talk to him about it, if he’s still upset.”

“I think that would be a good idea,” Jeremy agrees. He’s rather pleased someone else is taking the initiative about these conversations for once.

Ray looks quite vulnerable for a moment, though he hides it quickly when Gavin returns to the room, plastering his usual vaguely bored expression back on. Gavin freezes when he notices the other man, making it abundantly clear that he still feels rather awkward around him.

“Hey Ray,” he says, cautiously.

It occurs to Jeremy that they haven’t interacted in a long time, either. Not at the island and not since they came back. He doubts Ray’s been messaging Gavin, either, given his reaction to the other man being here earlier.

But Ray looks up now with a tenderness that Jeremy hasn’t seen on his face before.

“Hey Vav,” he says. He gets up and walks over to him - Gavin looks wary, but Ray seems unsure, too.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out,” Ray says, and Gavin blinks a few times, eyes widening.

“What?” he squawks. “Where? When?”

“Now,” Ray replies. “Just to the city, maybe. To hang out a bit. I think we should talk about some things.”

“Ummm,” Gavin says, eloquently. He seems rather uncertain what’s going on, and keeps darting little glances at Jeremy as though hoping he’ll swoop in and save him. But Jeremy’s not about to interfere - this isn’t about him, at all.

“We haven’t hung out, _properly_ , in a while,” Ray continues. “Even when we were staying here together during heist planning. So I’d like to spend some time with you.”

Gavin seems taken aback. Then hesitant.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Of course!” Ray replies, and steps even closer. “You come here on your bike or in the car?”

“Car,” Gavin says, seeming a little dazed.

“Sweet. Let’s go then. I’ll drive, take us somewhere nice - maybe a fancy iced coffee place. We might be back in time for dinner, we’ll play it by ear. That sound okay?”

“Sounds great,” Gavin says. He still seems confused, but _hopeful_ \- and when Ray holds out his hand he smiles properly and reaches out to take it, letting the other man lead him out of the room, Jeremy watching them go with his own hopeful grin.

\---

By the time they return it’s evening, and they’ve clearly made up. Gavin’s smiling brightly and even Ray looks much happier than he has in the whole time they’ve been at this house together. Jeremy can’t help being pleased; with everybody starting to apologise to one another, to get back to normal, it feels like soon this entire mess will be over and done with, and then they can all stop avoiding each other.

They eat dinner together that night, sitting out on the back patio in the dim glow of scented candles to keep the mosquitoes away. With Gavin there, somehow it feels even easier - he can always spark Ray into a conversation or argument that leaves him talking much more than he usually does, and with everyone so _happy_ that things are going well, it means Jeremy feels connected to _all_ of them. Staring around at all three faces in the flickering candlelight, he can’t help the swell of fondness he feels for each of them; their familiar smiling features, features that will never change.

They watch a movie together after, squashing in on one of the couches in front of Ryan’s big screen. Ray’s on one side of Jeremy and after a while Gavin, beside Ray, falls asleep leaning against his shoulder. Jeremy watches as Ray slings an arm around his shoulders and strokes his hair affectionately. After a moment, Ryan, on his other side, tugs Jeremy in against him. Jeremy looks up to find the other man smiling down at him - he smiles back, and settles against his chest to turn back to the screen. Ray’s leg is warm where it’s pressing against his own.

It doesn’t feel like they’re groups of two sitting together. It feels like a four, feels fitting and _right_. But he doesn’t want to assume. Doesn’t say anything. Just lets himself enjoy it, waiting to see where things go.

\---

**Michael: (team short temper)  
** Hey J, come in to the city today? I want to talk to you about something.

\---

The two of them meet up in a diner, one they’ve been to a number of times before; the food is cheap and grisly but it’s a quiet place to talk and no one gives them a second glance here. Even under the harsh fluorescent lights, Jeremy can’t help thinking that Michael looks a lot better than he did the last few times he saw him. Less tired, his hair less wild and his eyes less angry. Clean for once, not covered in the ashy traces of whatever fire he’s usually just lit.

They make small talk at first, catching up about Ryan’s house and the road trip and saying nothing about Ray. Jeremy’s not about to be the one to bring it up. Besides, right now he’s enjoying being with just _Michael_ again, without that heavy presence lingering over both of them like a cloud of dark smoke, stinging their eyes and making it hard to breathe. Letting it be just _them_ , like it was before.

They only hugged when he came in, but Michael has a hand on his across the table, comfortable and easy-like, and their knees bump together now and then under the too-small booth, and whether they say anything about it or not, it feels a bit like a date, and Jeremy’s glad for it.  
  
“Gav still back at Ryan’s place with you?” Michael asks eventually.

“Uh huh.” Gavin stayed the night and when Jeremy got up this morning he was still there, sitting in the grand armchair in the parlour in just his boxers and expensive dressing gown, affectedly reading the morning paper (for dramatic effect, Jeremy is quite sure, and only because they’re in Ryan’s weird old house, since he’s never seen Gavin check much more than his Facebook feed on his phone in the mornings before).

There’s a pause.

“And Ray?” Michael asks.

His voice is quiet and careful, and Jeremy goes still. _Here we go_ , he thinks, and he should be pleased, because he _wanted_ this - he is pleased, he tells himself. Just - unsure, hoping this is _progress_ and not instead about to lead to another downhill spiral.

“Yes,” he replies, just as carefully. “He and Gavin went out yesterday and made up. Gavin was pretty upset with him too, I think I mentioned it to you before - ‘cause he didn’t seem upset or anything to just leave him behind as well after he went away. But Ray apologised to him and I’m sure they talked some stuff out. They’re getting along just fine now.”

Michael nods, distractedly.

“I should talk to him,” he says. It comes out like a weird mix between question and statement, and Jeremy squeezes his hand until he looks up and meets his eyes.

“Are you ready to?”

It takes Michael a second to think about it, but then he nods.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Yeah, I think I am. The other night at the island, Jeremy… it was good to tell someone about what happened. I know we haven’t talked about it since, but just… just telling someone else helped, I think. Fuck, I don’t really know what I’m saying. I guess it forced me to think about it again. To try and… see it another way. See it how you’d’ve seen it.”

“Do you want to talk about it more?” Jeremy asks.

Michael just shrugs, but it’s a _yes_ sort of shrug, not an _I don’t care_.

“You’re not a monster, Michael,” Jeremy says, frowning. He’s been thinking a lot about that night, about what Michael told him. Picturing it in his head over and over. The fight. The fall. He remembers how scared he felt, dangling from that ledge, searing heat below him, but the look on Michael’s face stopped him ever _resenting_ the other man. After all, he saved him. “None of us are. I know it’s… it’s hard, sometimes. Most of the time you wouldn’t think we don’t have souls. Not when we still have hearts, not when we can still _feel_. But we know it sometimes. We feel empty, feel like we’re missing _something_. I can see why you’d get so angry you might do something you regret.”

“Not an excuse,” Michael mumbles.

“No,” Jeremy agrees, “But you and Ray… what you did, it’s not unforgivable. Then again, that’s up to him.”

Michael’s silent a long moment. He doesn’t look up at Jeremy, instead intently pushing a piece of bacon around his plate.

“You think he’s ready to talk about it?” he asks finally, gruffly.

“I think he’d like to,” Jeremy says, and means it - he remembers how oddly calm Ray was when they talked out on that rock, how he looked so happy after making up with Gavin. He can’t be enjoying this stand off. They’re getting nothing out of waiting. “A lot.”  
  
Michael nods, thoughtfully at first, then determined. He swallows, and looks up, meeting Jeremy’s eyes.

“I… I think I’ll need your help with it,” he begins.

“How so?”

“Ask him to come out with you,” Michael says. “I’ll tell you where and when. We’ll have a meeting, but I need you to bring him there. I think if I ask him myself, alone, he might not come… it’d be awkward, we haven’t talked in fucking ages. But he trusts you.”

“I…” Jeremy trails off. He felt a bit strange getting involved in something so personal, and he has a sneaking suspicion that Michael’s just making up an excuse because he’s too scared to make the first move asking Ray to come and talk himself.

“I trust you too,” Michael adds, reaching out and putting a hand over his again. “I wouldn’t ask any of the others to do this.”

Jeremy nods, and can’t help his small smile. He can hear it in Michael’s voice; he genuinely means it - isn’t just saying it to get Jeremy to do what he asks. Michael smiles back, then looks away, something oddly vulnerable passing across his face.

“I want things to change,” he says, softly. “I want them to go back to how they were… all of us. Including Ray. But I want you here, too. Don’t leave, Jeremy - please.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jeremy assures him, and Michael squeezes his hand tightly.

“Good,” he says, and Jeremy grins.

They kiss outside in the parking lot for the first time in weeks. There’s something a bit surreal about it; the empty car park, the bright fluorescent lights from the diner’s flashing sign sending swirls of garish green and pink and yellow across their faces. Michael’s insistent and almost possessive, pressing Jeremy back against the door of his car before he can drive back home. But his hands are gentle where they cradle Jeremy’s face, and when they pull apart he rests their foreheads together for a long moment, his breath warm against Jeremy’s lips.

“I never said it back, before,” he begins.

“What?” Jeremy asks.

“I love you too.” It comes out easily, and it takes Jeremy a moment to remember how he blurted it out, back during the fire. Everything had gotten so chaotic after that that he’d nearly forgotten. He breaks in a wide smile, something warm swelling in his chest, feeling oddly _valued_. Michael might want to make up with Ray, now, but any resentment or jealousy has faded away. He pulls Michael into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of his neck, savouring the moment and the closeness, letting the words linger and settle in the back of his head, his precious own to replay over and over again later on.

\---

While he’s here in the city, Jeremy makes the snap decision to drop by and see Jack and Geoff. He’s been texting both of them, about inane things - the films they’ve been watching, the heist he’s planning, the things he’s been up to at Ryan’s place - but he misses them too, and he’s surprised they haven’t dropped by yet, considering how close they are to Ryan. Then again, they see time so differently to him that maybe going a few weeks without seeing each other at all doesn’t matter. It hasn’t before. Maybe Jeremy’s just too sensitive about it, now.

Still.

“We missed you,” Geoff tells him, and seems very sincere about it. They’re settled up on the apartment building’s rooftop pool. Not swimming, just lounging about on deckchairs - they’ve swum at night before, but it’s too cool today to really be in the mood for it. But the water looks pretty with the glow of the building’s lights shimmering across its dark, mirror-like surface. It’s a bit like being back at the island, just with a much different view - the faint commotion of cars rushing by far below them rather than the distant crash of waves, the wail of sirens instead of bird-calls, glassy skyscrapers looming up around them in place of jungle trees. A different world - but one Jeremy likes just as much.

“Been busy,” he replies. He’s nestled between the two of them, their chairs close enough that Geoff can reach out and place a warm hand on his bare knee. They’re all groggy with too much wine and Chinese takeaway, and a pleasant lull’s settled over them despite being in the noisy heart of the city. Up here in the sky it’s quieter, anyway. “Relationship counselling.”

He gives a little, self-deprecating scoff, but Jack sits up a bit, shooting him one of his trademark concerned looks.

“You don’t have to, you know,” he says. “They can figure things out on their own, eventually. They’re grown men.”

“I don’t mind,” Jeremy assures him. “And even if that’s the case, _I_ don’t want to wait - I’d rather not waste our time.”

Geoff guffaws at that, and Jeremy’s cheeks heat a little as he realises it’s a rather silly statement, considering they have all the time in the world and then some. But Geoff’s not really laughing _at_ him, and he smiles after a moment, scooting his chair closer to Jeremy’s.

“That’s hilarious, but I also love it,” he says, and lets out a fond sigh, reaching out and slinging his arm around Jeremy’s shoulders, tugging him close against his side. “I’m glad you’re here, Little J. Don’t change.”

Jeremy manages a bashful smile, and Geoff jostles him until he looks up.

“I mean it,” he insists. “You’re a fucking gift.”

“Thank you,” Jack adds, something deeply sincere in it.

He shifts closer, too, and puts a hand on Jeremy’s cheek, turning his head and pressing their lips together. Their kiss is gentle and thorough and Geoff doesn’t let go of him, leaning in and winding his arms around Jeremy’s waist. He closes his eyes and lets himself get lost in it, the warmth of two bodies on either side of him, their experienced hands on him, moving in a fluid tandem that comes from knowing each other so long, managing not once to make him feel awkward or like they don’t know what they’re doing. Between them, Jeremy doesn’t feel like a third wheel. It just feels like they _both_ want him, and he feels even more sure of his place, no matter how long everyone else has been here.

\---

**Michael: (team short temper)  
** Is he ready? Is now a good time?

**Jeremy:  
** I think so, yeah

**Michael:  
** Okay then.

 

Jeremy takes a deep breath and looks up from his phone. He’s not sure why _he_ feels nervous - wasn’t the whole point of him doing it because Michael was too freaked out to? He wipes his hands against the sides of his jeans and steps forward.

Ray’s alone outside the house. Ryan is down in his basement and Jeremy has no idea where the fuck Gavin is, except that he’s still indoors somewhere. Ray is sitting up in the thick boughs of one of the trees in Ryan’s fields, nestled in a comfortable crook formed by two wide branches. He’s doing something on his phone, and the open space around him means he can see Jeremy coming from the house from a distance.

“Hey, Ray,” Jeremy says, as he gets up close.

“What’s up, Lil’ J?”

The nickname takes him aback; it’s the first time _Ray’s_ used it. For a moment he flounders, forgetting his words.

_It must be because Gavin’s here_. Ray probably picked it up from him; Ryan uses it less, at least when they’re alone.

Ray’s watching him patiently, something like a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Jeremy finally gets his voice back, and shakes himself.

“Right. I, uh, yes. I wanted to know if you’d like to come out with me?”

It sounds so fucking awkward that he can’t even blame Ray for staring quizzically at him for a moment - turning and leaning towards him, legs dangling off the branch. He’s high up enough that Jeremy’s gotta tilt his head back to look up at him, and it’s making him feel even stranger.

“Come out where?” Ray asks cautiously.

It occurs to Jeremy that it probably sounds very much like he’s asking Ray out on a date. The thought makes his heart pound, but he pushes it aside. That’s not what he’s here for. _Focus_.

“Just for a drive,” he replies, and takes another deep breath, continuing much more calmly. “Out to the mountains near here. There’s some stuff that I think we should talk about, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Ray stares at him again, and Jeremy stares back calmly. Then Ray gives a slow nod and hops down from the tree, landing nimbly on the ground like a cat.

“Okay,” he replies. “Let’s _talk_.”

For some reason, Jeremy gets the feeling that he _knows_ \- that he’s worked it out - that he’s anticipating Michael, whether it was Jeremy’s own nervousness that gave it away, or something else. Something about this quiet afternoon and the golden sun sending a sepia light over everything, like a trip back into an old photograph, some flashback - or a second chance. It feels like it’s all building up to something. The world feels small these days; little when they live so long, but still their playground. Eight years. He remembers Gavin mentioning he found Ray surprisingly still in America. He could’ve gone to the opposite side of the world to get away from them, but didn’t. Or maybe he did, and had been slowly finding his way home ever since.

He swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. but Ray smiles at him, disarming - reassuring, even, and Jeremy manages a smile back. Whatever happens, it seems Ray’s ready for it. He doesn’t think this will be a surprise.

“Come on then,” he says, voice nearly a whisper, and leads Ray to the car.

\---

They drive out into the hills, where roads give way to wide country trails and even the farms die away in place of open field and forest. It’s quite far from Achievement City, but a little closer to Ryan’s home. There’s silence in the car, but it’s not awkward - not even tense, really. Just thoughtful, neither of them feeling the need to speak. Any words would be meaningless small-talk, now.

Finally they reach the base of some of the mountains. Hiking treks and campgrounds surround them, deserted at this time of year. It’s not the same mountain where the incident happened, Jeremy knows, but similar enough, and as they start to drive up, around and around up the sloping trail, thick shrubbery on either side of them, he can tell Ray’s reminded of it as well.

Ray’s gone still beside him, gazing vacantly out the window like he’s rehearsing a script in his head. But when they see Michael up ahead, at one of the viewing areas where the trees’ve been cleared from the mountainside and a little picnic table and guard rail are set up, he sits up a bit. Jeremy stops the car halfway up the winding road leading to the top of the hill.

The sun’s setting by now, and the view is amazing. He can see out from the viewing platform - AC in the distance, the rolling expanses of greenery below, streaks of violet clouds in the orange dusk like mottled bruises.

Michael notices the car pull up and rises. He seems nervous; even from here Jeremy can tell he’s holding himself awkwardly, hands fisting at his sides, shoulders hunched. Beside him, Ray takes a deep, shaky breath.

“You okay?” Jeremy asks.

Ray lets it out, slowly.

“Not really,” he admits, gruffly. Then barks out a laugh. “But I will be.”

That makes Jeremy smile. If they’re both going into this _hoping_ for reconciliation, then he has faith everything will be alright.

“I’ll give you two your space,” he says.

“Thanks,” Ray replies, but he still seems hesitant, and after a moment Jeremy turns to him properly.

“He really wants to talk,” he assures him. “But he’s… he’s scared too. That’s why he asked me to bring you here.”

“I know,” Ray replies, softly. “I’m scared as well. Funny, isn’t it? I left. I came back on my own terms. Yet I’m still nervous what _he_ thinks of me.”

“I guess that’s one thing about being immortal,” Jeremy points out. “We don’t change much in eight years. Not like anyone else would. He’s still your Michael. Just… less angry now, I hope.”

Ray nods. They exchange a small smile, something oddly intimate and grateful in it. Then Ray heaves a deep breath and gets out of the car, walking towards Michael.

Jeremy watches as they move to meet one another. With the sun behind them he can’t see much, just the two black silhouettes of their forms. He sees them pause a little way from each other and begin to talk.

From this distance and inside the car, he can’t hear what they say. That’s probably for the best; he doesn’t particularly want to eavesdrop. This isn’t about him, at all. At first they’re both looking down, clearly feeling awkward - but after a time Michael starts inching closer, and at some point they take hold of each others’ hands. Finally they embrace - Ray’s the one who pulls Michael into a hug, which he accepts readily, and even from here Jeremy can see how his face burrows into Ray’s shoulder, seeking comfort. They fit together easily, and Jeremy thinks of the video Jack first showed him, their kites wheeling and arching around each other as they flew together, in some practiced tandem that only comes with knowing someone so completely intimately. And then - they kiss, tenderly at first, but building up. It’s clear how much they missed each other from the way Michael’s arms wrap around Ray, grasping tightly, how Ray’s hand wraps around the back of Michael’s head, tangling in his curls and keeping him pressed close. A sudden strength of feeling that reminds Jeremy of Jack and Geoff and how decades spent together have given them some inseparable air that’s apparent even when they’re not in the same room; they’ve become a pair, a matching set, it feels wrong to think of one without also considering the other in the background.

There’s something about that which he envies, but not in a bad way, not in a _jealous_ way. Because he can tell, he’s building it with _all_ the others now, the longer he stays here, and he looks away with a slow smile, finally feeling the last pieces falling into place. Everything really will be okay.

\---

It’s quite late at night by the time Jeremy gets back to the house. He’s alone - Michael and Ray stayed behind to talk, and he’s pretty sure they went out to dinner together. He could’ve gone along, but he wanted them to have the time to talk together without worrying about someone else watching them, and even if going to a diner alone and eating with nothing but his own thoughts under the bright fluorescent lights, watching the rest of the world pass by on the bustling streets through the grimy glass windows, reminded him too much of how he’d been before, spending late nights alone - he couldn’t help but be happy, reassured in the knowledge that tomorrow he’d wake up and everything would be back to normal. 

Inside the manor, he pauses in the foyer, taking deep breaths. The loud ticking of Ryan’s enormous grandfather clocks echo throughout the whole house, which is silent and mostly dark. He feels relieved about what happened, and exhausted, but also oddly melancholic.

It feels like something important has just ended.

_The drama_ , he thinks, with a wry smile, and of course he’s _glad_ about it - but he’s also suddenly a little empty, not quite sure what to do with himself now that there’s nothing left to _fix_.

He must look a bit morose, because when Ryan suddenly enters the room, he pauses, and then moves a few steps towards Jeremy.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Jeremy replies, looking up with a tired smile. Ryan smiles back.

“Where’ve you been all day?”

“Took Ray out to see Michael,” Jeremy replies - he sees Ryan’s questioning look, and grins. “Think they finally made up. They’ve gone out together now but I think Ray’s coming back to the house later tonight. They’re okay,” he says with relief, and Ryan nods. His eyes are warm and happy.

“I knew they would be,” he replies, smiling. Jeremy smiles back, but looks away a moment later, that odd emptiness tugging at him again, especially when Ryan heads across the room and starts unlocking the basement door. Jeremy assumes he’s gonna disappear down there again, and heaves himself off the wall. He’ll go to find Gavin. Or just sleep, alone. No big deal.

_Might be time to go back to the penthouse soon,_ he thinks, vaguely. _I miss my cats_.

“Lil’ J,” Ryan calls out.

He looks up. Ryan’s standing in the basement door - holding the door open. Jeremy freezes, unsure what this is.

“Want to come see what I’m working on?” he asks, and Jeremy’s eyes widen.

“Oh my God,” he can’t help blurting out. “Are… are you serious?”

Ryan just shrugs, so nonchalantly that Jeremy can only wonder if he’s dreaming.

“I thought it was a big secret,” he continues, and Ryan smiles and puts a finger to his lips.

“It is,” he says, voice low and laced with amusement. “But I trust you.”

Jeremy stares, then his face breaks into a wide grin. He comes closer, and Ryan lays a large, warm hand on his back, ushering him past him and finally, finally, through that secret door and into the dim, bluish light beyond.

They head down a series of winding stairs. Jeremy was expecting cold, harsh stone, like some sort of King Arthur-esque dungeon, but instead the walls are a clinical white and the stairs are smooth concrete. There’s a chill in the air and a chemical sort of smell, and they descend deeper and deeper into the earth before the stairs finally open into a laboratory. Jeremy freezes, staring.

An expansive, clean white space is lit up with bright lights. There’s machinery _everywhere_ \- lab benches and gizmos and enormous cupboards filled with meticulously labelled bottles of chemicals. And in the centre of the room…

Jeremy can barely even begin to describe the machine. It’s clearly not finished, but it’s a tangled mess of a creature that looks like some sort of mechanical monster; lights flickering all over its surface, a great door like an oven, enormous pipes sprouting from every part of it like a writhing mess of tentacles. It’s making a terrible noise and doing what can only really be described as _chugging_.

“What… what the fuck is this place?” he breathes out, inching deeper into the room. No murder down here, no bloodstained benches or torture tools like he expected. Just clinical _science_ everywhere he turns, and a lot of machinery around. 

“My lab,” Ryan declares, proudly, as Jeremy stares around, eyes wide as saucers.

“Not gonna lie, I was expecting a medieval torture dungeon,” he mutters. “And my second guess was like, some sort of weird BDSM thing ever since Gav said he comes down here too.”

“Why the fuck would you think _that_?” Ryan demands, sounding a strange mix of amused and defensive.

“Look,” Jeremy replies, “In my defence, you kinda have that vibe.”

"That _vibe_?”

“You wear a lot of leather! I don’t know!” He steps closer to the machine, cautiously - two flickering red lights high on its front side look a bit like menacing red eyes. _Pet project_ , he remembers Ryan calling it. “What is this?”

He stares at it for a moment before looking back over his shoulder at Ryan, whose face has suddenly gone oddly drawn. Jeremy’s own grin fades, expecting something very serious to come out of Ryan’s mouth, but instead he gets:

“Look… you have to promise not to laugh.”

“What?” 

“Promise not to _laugh_ ,” Ryan insists, and, startled, Jeremy can only nod.

“Okay,” he says, and Ryan takes a deep breath.

“I’m trying to build a time travel machine,” he announces.

Jeremy stares at him. He takes a long, long moment to process this. Out of everything he could’ve possibly expected, this was not anywhere near being on the list.

“Oh my God,” he manages finally. “Oh my fucking God. A _time machine_?”

“Yes,” Ryan replies proudly, striding forward and stroking a hand down the machine’s side like it’s some sort of beloved pet. “It’s not working yet, not remotely near being finished… but I’m slowly making progress. Problem is, the generators use up so much power and are constantly kicking the bucket. But we’re getting there!”

“Okay… _why_?” Jeremy can’t help asking, still rather flabbergasted as he stares up at the pulsing machine in awe. “We’re gonna live forever, Ryan, we’re the last people in the world who need a time machine…” 

He trails off - despite his confusion, he starts laughing, delighted. It’s just such an absurd idea, yet somehow so fitting for someone as strange as Ryan is.

“I told you not to laugh!” Ryan cries, a bit defensively.

“They’re happy laughs,” Jeremy assures him. “I just… in my wildest dreams I never expected _this_. Why?”

“Well, there are two main reasons,” Ryan explains. “Firstly, we’re gonna see the future of course, but the past or at least many places within it are still unexplored by most of us. Travel was hard back in those days. I saw a lot of Europe in my time, but very little of Asia, Africa, anywhere else… I also want to see dinosaurs.”

“Okay. That’s reasonable all on its own,” Jeremy announces, “Because I also want to see dinosaurs.”

“Reason number two - if someone _did_ invent a time machine, no regular human could go through it anyway without being torn to shreds. The principle behind this - it sounds ridiculous, but Gavin came up with it after some stupid ramble about a telescope and a big mirror in the sky - it’s kind of like… time in space works differently, right? Galaxies are dying out as we speak, most stars we look at have already burnt out, and anything we see from space is already thousands of years old because of how light travels.”

“You’ve already lost me,” Jeremy says - he has little head for science, never has.

“It’s hard to explain,” Ryan replies. “But basically, a human would die if we ever did invent a way to project ourselves back into the past. Their bodies can’t travel through like that. But _we_ could survive, which makes us the only people who ever _could_ go back and see the past. Think of all the questions we could answer - who shot JFK? Did Hitler really die when we thought he did? Anastasia Romanov… imagine the _things_ we could see. The Coliseum. The Tang Dynasty. _Dodo birds_ , Jeremy!”

“You’ve sold me on it!” Jeremy laughs. “So why don’t the others know about it?”

“They’d laugh,” Ryan replies. “They wouldn’t understand. It might end up failing miserably. Also, it’s funny watching how frustrated they get _not_ knowing. Gavin’s helping me build it - it’s our secret. He believes in the impossible - in pushing the limits of science.”

Jeremy stares at Ryan, all worked up and passionate about this. He knows he must look completely starry-eyed and a bit foolish, but he can’t help it. He can barely believe he used to be terrified of him - he can see him now for who he is; creative, ingenious, and just a _bit_ ridiculous. He can’t stop smiling, and after a moment he leans up and kisses Ryan firmly on the lips. The other man seems startled, but eagerly kisses back, his hands coming to rest on Jeremy’s shoulders, tugging him closer.

“You’re adorable,” Jeremy informs him, when they pull apart.

“Was that meant to be condescending? Adorable in like, a _this will never work out but I’ll humour your delusional fringe science_ way?”

“No, I really mean it. This is brilliant, and so fucking _out there_ , and I can’t really believe you two are actually working on it. It’s perfect,” Jeremy says, and grins, “It’s so _you_. I love it. I’ll help, if you need anything. I’m useless at science but I can do the heavy lifting with the machinery if you want.”

A wide smile breaks over Ryan’s face.

“Fantastic!” he says. “You’re on board, then.”

“Oh, for sure,” Jeremy replies. He can’t stop smiling - this really is incredible, and his sense of purposelessness is gone in an instant. The drama is over now, but a new project has landed right in his lip. Plus he has the heist he’s planned with Geoff, and the one he and _Gavin_ are going to do, and he pushes aside his previous misgivings as silliness. The future isn’t long and stretched out and _empty_ , not here and now - it’s bustling and full and he’s _excited_ for it, and he smiles when Ryan kisses him again, slowly this time, passionate and deep.

\---

It’s past midnight when Jeremy comes back up the stairs. He leaves Ryan to his tinkering for tonight, a bit too tired to stay up and help, but he’s just heading through the hall when he hears the front door open and turns to find Ray entering the house. He’s got a smile on his face, and when he sees Jeremy he pauses as their eyes meet.

The silence is awkward, and Jeremy’s suddenly not quite sure where they stand with each other - but then, to his surprise, the other man rushes towards him and pulls him into a tight hug. Jeremy blinks a couple of times - but then hugs Ray back, fervently, filled with a sudden swell of emotion towards the other man. It’s strange - they don’t know each other all that well, have never been this close before, and Ray feels different in his arms to sturdy Michael, or tall strong Ryan, or slender Gavin who always smells like a mix of Old Spice and hairspray - but he squeezes Ray tightly, feeling suddenly very close to him. _Wanting_ to get used to him, until he feels as familiar in his arms as any of the others.

“Stay,” he hears himself whisper.

He’s not sure why it bursts out of him. Maybe there’s still some lingering uncertainty there. Maybe he needs to hear _himself_ say it, to know he’s over any sort of petty jealousy. Maybe he needs the reassurance that Ray wants this too, to be here even now that Jeremy’s part of the crew, to expand their group into a seven rather than leave anyone pushed out.

But Ray’s arms tighten around him too, and although he doesn’t say anything, he presses his face into Jeremy’s shoulder, and somehow that little, intimate motion tells him all he needs to know. That things worked out between them. That everything’s okay, now. That he will stay.

\---

Jeremy returns to the penthouse a few days later, missing his cats and the others too much to keep staying out there in the countryside, although he knows he’ll be a more frequent visitor now as Ryan continues his project. He spends the whole day heist planning with Geoff and Jack, but as evening falls he knows they’ve got plans to go out with Ryan, and he’s spent so much time with the other man lately that he thinks it might be nice to let them have some alone time to catch up.

Jack kisses him before he goes. It’s becoming familiar now, the way they fit together, and Jeremy couldn’t be more thrilled. Geoff moves in after him, and when they pull apart Jeremy beams at the two of them. They must be going somewhere classy because they’re both in expensive suits, and he gives an approving nod.

“You look sharp,” he announces.

“What’s with the cowboy hat?” Geoff shoots back, reaching out and flicking the hat which Jeremy has taken to wearing since he left Ryan’s house; he nicked it off the hat stand when leaving since he liked the look of it. It’s just one of the numerous cultural relics cluttering up the place.

Jeremy laughs.

“I’m developing my unique style, just like you guys,” he teases. “I like it! Besides, maybe I’ll go back and visit the Wild West one day.”

Geoff snorts.

“Only direction in time we’re going is forward,” he announces. “At full speed. _Endlessly_.”

Jeremy just gives his own little private smile. They’re standing out the front of the penthouse and he watches them leave, climbing into one of their expensive cars before driving off. Vaguely contemplating what he’s gonna have for dinner, he turns back towards the apartment, only to pause.

The other lads are in the car park nearby, and seem to be getting ready to go somewhere on bikes. They’re laughing and smiling together, and Jeremy pauses - it’s the first time he’s really seen all of them _together_. He’s been waiting for Ray to come back and join the rest of them at the penthouse, and figured Ryan’s conversation with the other gents this evening might be something to do with that.

But here they are now - Michael, his blazing favourite, a wide grin spread across his face, curls shining red in the sinking evening light. Pretty golden Gavin next to him, doubled over in fits of those squeaky giggles that Jeremy’s become so fond of. And Ray, standing beside them - darker, quieter, but smiling as well now, a smile Jeremy loves more and more every time he sees it. He looks happy, one hand out and resting on Gavin’s shoulder next to him.

Michael turns and catches sight of Jeremy. They pause, their eyes meeting - but then he beams that same brilliant smile that made Jeremy fall in love with him practically at first sight, and holds out a hand towards him. The others notice and turn, smiling encouragingly too.

Jeremy swallows, his chest tight with some welling, warm emotion. He has a place here, he thinks - among this crew of _seven_. He thinks of all of them, and Ray’s smile is directed at him too. He takes a deep breath, and walks over, and Michael’s warm hand folds over his, pulling him to come and join them.


End file.
